Heartbeats
by Bre-dust2dust34
Summary: A ficlet collection exploring the carnal side of Olicity.
1. Laundry Night

**Laundry Night**

By Bre (dust2dust34)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Arrow.  
Rating: Explicit  
Author's Notes: Part of my Heartbeats Olicity smutlet collection. Because apparently I need more ficlet collections instead of writing on my multi-chapters.

Summary: AU, one-shot. "Really? On the washer?"

* * *

I love smut. I try to avoid it because I get very carried away with smut, but a recent conversation with Calli (callistawolf) and reading other smut made me realize the world _needs_ more Olicity smut. How many times can I say smut? Btw, Melissa (dettiot) has also started an Olicity fuckening fic drive on Tumblr, which spurned me to write this instead of the other billion things I'm working on. So go check that out.

I usually wait a few days before I post anything I've drafted, but I was too excited to post this. If the read is choppy, I apologize, I literally wrote this at work a few hours ago. All mistakes are mine.

* * *

She could feel him watching her.

She didn't have to look over to know his eyes were glued to her as she moved around the tiny laundry room, filling each washer - one with darks, one with lights, and one with her delicates, which had grown an alarming amount since she had started dating him. She hadn't thought she'd be the type of girlfriend who spent exorbitant amounts of money on lacy under things, but it had taken one night of him seeing her in the only sexy pair of matching lingerie she had to change her mind on that one.

Felicity shivered at the memory.

Dinner was supposed to lead to a movie, but it had actually led to the car which had led them straight to her apartment. She'd been unlocking the door, eyes half-hooded as he pressed the thick hardness in his pants against her ass, the flirty thin material of her dress suddenly feeling like tissue paper between them. His hand had slid up her arm, his palm warm and gentle, before sliding across her chest and underneath her dress, fingers skimming over the soft lace to cup her breast. Her breath had hitched, her hips pressing back against him more urgently as his fingers dipped under the demi-cup, finding her nipple.

She'd dropped her keys when he'd grazed the hard nubbin, his mouth on her bare shoulder, his other arm wrapping around her waist, yanking her back against him, nearly lifting her off her feet.

When they'd finally gotten inside - after it had taken her more than a minute to articulate that she had dropped the keys through the hazy fog his fingers were creating - he'd had her dress undone, his fingers brushing across her back, leaving a trail of fire in his path that had her panting his name before his mouth followed the trajectory of the zipper.

_His lips dragged down her spine, bringing every single nerve to life under his touch; she felt every puff of air, every graze of his nose, the brush of the soft callouses on his fingers from all that ridiculous archery of his as he tugged the dress down her body._

_He kneeled behind her, sliding the dress down her legs to pool at her feet._

Felicity licked her lips, concentrating on putting the quarters in their slots on the washer, but her fingers were shaking, the coins becoming slippery.

Oliver's intense gaze on her back where he sat waiting for her was _not_ helping. Laundry time was precious time, she always came in the middle of the night when it was deserted and she could babysit her clothes without company. She should have left him upstairs.

She finally got the quarters in one washer, and she shoved the lip in, changed the washer settings and hit Start.

His eyes burned a hole in her back and heat pooled in the pit of her stomach.

_His mouth grazed the top of her bottom, his tongue tracing the line of the lace thong, his hands gripping her hips. The simultaneous hard grip and soft touch was overwhelming as his thumbs kneaded her ass, spreading her cheeks, his fingers pressing almost painfully against her hip bones. He pushed his face against her lower back, his stubble scraping the sensitive skin there, making her shiver with a soft, "Aah."_

_He kissed her hip and dragged his lips down, leaving a light trail with his tongue where he pressed his lips to one cheek._

_"Felicity," he whispered, need making his voice rough. She loved when he said her name like that; like it was a prayer._

_He helped her step out of her dress and turned her so she was facing him. His large hands gripped her waist, sliding down slowly over her hips and thighs, his eyes locked on hers. He stared at the bra with hooded eyes, and she felt his heated gaze when he looked at the matching panties, nearly coming apart when he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and met her gaze again. _

_Felicity fought to breathe normally, looking down at him as he slid his hands up her thighs, his fingers gliding under the straps of her thong. He kept going, his eyes locked on hers, dragging the thin material up, the already-soaked panties rubbing deliciously against her sensitive folds. His eyes stayed on her as he leaned forward, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across her stomach before he twisted his fingers, pressing the thong up harder so it slipped between her puffy lips and pressed right against her tender clit._

Felicity shifted, rubbing her thighs together.

_She let out a choked gasp, her hands flying to cover his. Her head dropped back as he twisted the material further, her hair cascading down her back, tickling her skin, a heady combination as Oliver pressed the thong up higher, rubbing it against her swollen flesh until her hips started to move in time with his ministrations before he suddenly stopped._

"_Oliver," she whispered pleadingly. He groaned when she rotated her hips, seeking more friction._

_He stood suddenly, making her gasp, his hand sliding up her back and into her hair, his other reaching around to grab her ample ass. _

_When she started to shake off her heels, he stopped her. _

_"Leave them."_

Felicity shivered again, feeling like his eyes were nailing her in place.

Oliver really should not have come down here.

The man just had to exist and he distracted her.

It was entirely unfair to look that good at one in the morning, sitting in a crappy foldout chair in the dingy basement of her apartment building in pajamas, surrounded by crumbling concrete walls and the outrageously loud roar of the old washers starting to rumble to life. She had once asked Garry, the building manager, how old the washers were and he'd said they were there when he'd started, which was in the 90's.

They worked, but with lots of protest.

She was on the third machine - wow, she was only on the third one, why was it taking her so long to put quarters into these things - when she felt Oliver move; how in the world she was so attuned to him was beyond her, but she felt like she was actually facing him and watching his movements, knowing where he was going to be before he did.

Felicity paused, her hand hovering over the coin dispenser, and she didn't have to wait long as her back burned with awareness. She jumped when his mouth pressed against her shoulder. He leaned in behind her, trapping her in his arms as he braced himself against the washer, not touching her.

He leaned forward enough to press his lips to her ear.

"You're blushing," he said, his voice so low she barely heard it over the loud rumbles of the washers.

"The circulation isn't that good down here, Oliver," she replied breathlessly. That wasn't a lie. When more than two of the dryers were going, it turned into a sauna.

"You don't look _flushed_, Felicity," he said, his voice roughening. He stepped closer and pressed the full length of his body to hers and she nearly dropped all her quarters. "You're blushing."

Felicity made a sound and Oliver lifted the hair off her neck, pushing it to one side. He trailed a finger down from her ear to her collarbone and instead of dropping the coins, she clenched them into a tight fist; so hard it hurt.

"When you blush, your skin turns pink, all the way up to here," Oliver said as he dragged his finger across her skin and back up the column of her neck. "What're you thinking about?"

"Oh, nothing," Felicity said, forcing her hand to relax. She moved to grab another coin but it slipped from her fingers and hit the top of the washer with a loud clang, making her jump.

"Here, let me help," Oliver said. He reached around her and took four quarters with annoyingly steady hands and placed them in the dispenser and pushed the lip in. He'd clearly been paying enough attention to know she was on the lights, because he put in all the correct settings and pressed Start.

The machine shot to life, sending a course of vibrations right through her, heading straight for her center. She gasped, clenching the quarters into a tight fist.

Oliver pressed her further against it as it filled with water and she wiggled against him.

"Oliver, we're in public," she said, her voice husky and sounding like she did not care about that _at all_.

"It's the middle of the night," he replied, his teeth finding her earlobe, and she shuddered, before she shouldered him off. She was ready to give him a lecture on the decency of public displays of affection when the machine suddenly stopped filling with water, and a second later it started to shake as the agitation cycle began.

Felicity let out a gargled gasp, dropping the remainder of the quarters, all of them slapping the top of the washer with sharp clangs.

She let out a soft, "Oh frak," that ended in breathy gust of air when Oliver bent down, his hand finding her bare thigh, sliding up and under her simple cloth skirt.

Felicity held her breath, waiting, and she bit her lip to keep from smiling when he froze behind her.

Oliver's eyebrows rose, his lips tugging back in a slow smile as his hand skimmed over her very bare ass before moving to her very bare sex. She felt the hitch in his breathing when his fingers slid across the wetness waiting for him.

"It's laundry night," she said by way of explanation, her lips curled in a smile.

He inhaled quickly, his fingers curling into her bare hip. She felt his cock swelling behind her, and she stood up on her toes to get closer to him, making him grunt something intelligible.

"Don't move," he whispered harshly into her ear, and then he was gone.

She barely had time to brace herself on the rumbling washer - which was still sending very, very pleasant vibrations that felt like they were living in her bones, centering between her legs; maybe she should have worn underwear, she thought, as she shifted, everything feeling very slick down there - and turned to see where he had gone.

Oliver shut the door to the laundry room and braced the foldout chair against the door handle.

Realization dawned on her as Oliver turned back to her, his eyes dark with lust, an intensity in his face she hadn't seen in a while.

"Oliver-"

He didn't let her finish. Instead he swept the quarters off the washer and hopped on top of it before wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her up on top of him.

"Oliver!" Felicity snapped, bracing herself on his shoulders as she tugged her against him. She straddled him - because _balance_ \- but she didn't let him pull her hips down to meet his. The washer rumbled beneath them, and it traveled up her legs, only reminding her she was very naked under that skirt. "Really, Oliver? On the washer?"

Oliver quirked an eyebrow at her before he gripped her hips and jerked her down, forcing them together. The thin pajama pants he was wearing did nothing to hinder the hard length that pressed up into her naked sex. Her eyes fluttered shut as she arched into his touch, her fingers curling into tight fists in his t-shirt as the washer jumped underneath them. She felt the vibrations through her legs and through him, amplified by the tight grip he held on her.

"Are you complaining?" he asked, his voice low and heavy with insinuation.

She let out a breathy air of protest before shaking her head with a, "Nope."

A quick grin sliced across his lips and he reached up, cupping her cheek, pulling her mouth to his.

Felicity moaned, cradling his face, his tongue slipping out to meet hers the same time hers did. He growled, his fingers tangling in her hair when she tightened her thighs around him, rotating her hips and mewling as a streak of hot pleasure shot straight to her core.

He pressed her down harder, his hips thrusting up to meet hers as the kiss turned more urgent and rushed.

Oliver shoved her skirt up to her waist and pulled back to shimmy the pajama pants down.

Felicity giggled when he cursed, the look of concentration on his face frightening in its force as he wiggled out of his pants, and she laughed at his grunt of exasperation when his pants got caught on his cock before it sprang free, all his movements jerky and uncoordinated from the washer underneath them.

"You're awfully growly considering this was your idea," she said and he shot her a look before he smiled.

"I'm just glad I'm not wearing underwear," he said, pulling her back for another kiss as his pants bunched uncomfortably underneath her thighs before she slipped into his lap again, her wet sex sliding against his bare cock. They both gasped and Felicity's eyes fluttered shut as she arched her back, pressing up and down his length. His hands slid up her hips and over her waist, circling her ribcage, his fingers tightening as she moved against him.

"Felicity," he whispered, his voice strangled, and she used his shoulders to brace to lift herself, the head of his cock brushing through her wetness, missing her entrance and instead sliding up against her clit, making her hips jerk. He reached between them and pressed it home and she didn't waste one second, pressing down, taking him in to the hilt as he filled her.

She didn't move for a moment, letting her body acclimate to him, and she watched him clench his jaw, his fingers digging into her ribs. His eyes flickered down her body, to where they were joined. He shoved her skirt up further before he looked back up at her, the heat in his gaze scorching. Her thighs tensed as she slowly lifted her hips and thrust back down, and he clenched his jaw tighter, watching her through hooded eyes as she started to ride him.

She slowly picked up speed, her lips parted in broken pants, the gentle vibrations making her feel like all her nerves were slowly morphing into live wires. Everywhere he touched, she felt like her skin was burning. His lips found her pulse point, and she ducked her head down to nip at his ear before pushing him back so she could find that one spot on the side of his neck that made him…

"Felicity," he hissed slowly, dragging her name out, his fingers pressing into her so hard they were going to leave bruises.

The washer suddenly stopped beneath them. Her skin felt like it was echoing the vibrations it had left behind before it started to tremble as it entered its spin cycle.

The vibrations were more pronounced this time around, and Felicity let out a jerky moan, trying to right her breathing, but she had already been so primed and she moaned again, pleasure rapidly coiling inside her as the washer rumbled violently beneath them.

"Oh… god," she moaned, and Oliver wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush to his chest as he lifted her, and slammed her back down.

Felicity wrapped her arms around his head, feeling his uneven breaths against her neck as she concentrated on the white hot pleasure starting to burn in the pit of her stomach.

For those delicate few minutes, there was nothing but the sound of Oliver's breathing, her harsh gasps, his tight hold on her, her nails digging in his shoulders and scalp, the washer jerking underneath them as her hips worked them both up until…

"Ooh!" Felicity yelped, her orgasm ripping through her. Oliver's fingers found her clit, pushing her higher. Her walls pulsed around him as she came again, and she barely felt his forehead pressing into her chest, his fingers clawing into her back as his hips jerked up against her, chasing his end, making the washer move even more before he exploded inside her, her name a litany on his lips.

Felicity felt like she was floating, aware of nothing else but that she was content and warm, safe and in the arms of the man she loved…

She'd flown apart at the seams… leaving her skin feeling like it had been doused in acid as the washer's unrelenting cycle continued. The vibrations coursed through both of them, irritating every inch of her sensitive skin.

"Felicity," Oliver groaned, shifting underneath her and she lifted herself off with shaky thighs. He slid out of her, his trembling hands squeezing her hips at the loss before he helped her off the washer.

All their strength from earlier was gone and she stumbled, nearly falling right off the washer. She grabbed it for balance as Oliver slid off next, tucking himself back into his pants.

"Oh wow," she whispered as Oliver offered his hand to her. She took it and he wrapped his arms limply around her. "That was… wow."

"Yeah," he breathed. His heart was racing under her ear, his skin sticky with sweat and he pressed a sloppy kiss to the top of her head, pleasantly numb contentedness whispering through her.

"So…" Felicity said, licking her lips. "Wanna help me with laundry next Tuesday too?"

The End

* * *

One day I will write Oliver and Felicity having sex on an actual goddamn bed. Alright, I need to go write something pure.

Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	2. Late-Night Meeting

**Late-Night Meeting**

By Bre (dust2dust34)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Arrow.  
Rating: Explicit  
Author's Notes: Part of my Heartbeats Olicity ficlet collection. Once again, I'm too excited to wait to post this. All mistakes and choppy writing are mine.  
Timeline: A happy magical place that is post-S2 where Felicity and Oliver are together. Oh, and that beautiful deleted scene with the kiss? Totally happened in this 'verse.

Summary: Oliver gets called to a late emergency board meeting, leaving Felicity on her own.

* * *

The room was dark, the only light coming from her flickering television, images of the first romantic comedy that had been listed in that category on Netflix splashing against the dark walls. It was on mute, leaving nothing else but the soft sound of her gentle breathing, the rustling of her sheets when she shifted on the bed, and the sound of popcorn crunching as she shoveled another handful into her mouth.

"Oh, Antoine," Felicity said in a hushed whisper, emphasizing her words dramatically through a mouthful of mottled kernels. "But can't you see? I love you."

She watched for a second.

"Hmm, lucky me. Lay one on me," she said, deepening her voice as the main romantic interest implored soundlessly to the helplessly clueless protagonist. She followed the action, grabbing another handful of popcorn. Waiting for the appropriate moment, she found it and said, "And don't call me Antoine. My name is Wally."

She switched characters. "Yes, I know, but how can I love a man named Wally?"

Tonight was supposed to be the night.

Alright, The Night had already happened many moons ago, but this was supposed to be another _the night_. A date night, a night that was just for them. No Arrow business, no Queen Consolidated business, just _them_ business. That is until Oliver had gotten a call for an emergency board meeting well over two hours ago.

After thirty minutes of nothing, she'd traded in the pinching bra for one of Oliver's t-shirts and the thong for plain ol' panties. After an hour, she'd turned the TV on to see one of her favorite movies of all time playing, only to change it because it was the kind of movie that deserved to be properly watched from the beginning, which ended with her picking the first movie that popped up on Netflix.

And now here she was, two hours later, quoting that movie with another on silent, her popcorn getting cold and hard, and still no Oliver.

She was more proud of him than she could ever express since they had gotten the company back - since _he_ had gotten the company back - because he had done it all on his own. After he had defeated Slade, after order had come back to Starling City, and after they had come back from Lian Yu, things had been different.

And she wasn't just talking about the love declaration or the kiss that had made her legs feel like they were going to fall right off, but _he_ had changed.

Something had clicked in him, like a realization he hadn't even realized he'd been seeking… She had been perfectly fine going on as if nothing had happened, because she had honestly thought nothing had happened. He had said those things to fool Slade, so he would come for Felicity, ensuring he didn't go after Laurel…

It had taken them nearly three months and a lot of 'acting like damn idiots' - per Diggle - for anything to happen, and it finally had when they'd been watching a movie at her apartment, out on the couch, laying perfectly comfortable and content as friends are apt to do when she'd shifted her legs, pressing her feet against his thigh.

He'd laid his on her bare ankle, and she'd frozen, but when it didn't move again, she'd relaxed… until she had to move again - which had nothing to do with the fact that she had been hyperaware of everything Oliver, from how many breaths he was taking, to the tiniest movement of his fingers on her ankle bone, to when his right foot moved a centimeter, to when he huffed in laughter at the television…

Felicity had stretched her leg, pressing against him, and his hand had _tightened_… and somehow they ended up making out like the source of all mankind's air was down each other's throats, nearly falling off the couch in the process.

Her phone let out a delightful chime and Felicity nearly knocked the popcorn bowl off the bed as she dove for her phone.

_O: Should be done soon_

_F: Hope the board appreciates these sacrifices _

_O: New company rule effective tomorrow: no more bullshit meetings in the middle of the night _

_F: :P_

_O: :)_

Felicity smiled, shaking her head. Oliver using any sort of smiley face never failed to make her smile, turning the entire thing into a vicious smiling cycle that he was only too aware of. He was ridiculously proud of his ability to just find the vast amount of emojis on his phone, much less use them.

She put it aside, reaching for more popcorn when her phone chimed again.

_O: What are you wearing?_

Felicity made a face at her phone; it was a mix of a concerned furrowed brow - he was in a meeting, and he did need to be paying attention - and a smile that she was trying to not let break her face - because her boyfriend wanted to know what she was wearing. It wasn't something they'd ever done, or tried, mostly because they saw each other literally every single minute of the day…

Still, a board meeting was not the time for something like sexting, especially since there was still the delicate question of, 'Is Oliver Queen going to railroad the company again?'

And she would need to write an apology note to her future-self because present Felicity was going to be a bit of a buzzkill.

_F: Are you still in the meeting?_

_O: Yes_

_F: Then I'm wearing a potato sack. Pay attention_

_O: :(_

Felicity laughed and put the phone aside, looking back at the TV when it chimed again.

_O: Felicity. What are you wearing_

Despite herself, a heated thrill shot through her, and she shifted on the bed. She could hear him asking it perfectly; his voice would get deeper, softer, the voice he always used when he wanted something from her.

She could just imagine him, sitting at the head of the table, his phone in his lap, listening to the drone of the board members half-heartedly, his face perfectly stoic as he texted her.

She bit her lip, cocking her head. She shouldn't be encouraging this, he was the one always going on about how much he had to do at the office during the day.

Still… he had asked.

_F: One of your shirts_

_O: Which shirt_

_F: Kings_

_O: The torn one?_

She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth as she smiled. It was her favorite shirt, and subsequently his favorite on her. It was one he had had for years, so worn through in some spots it was amazing the material still held together. All the edges were fraying with a large hole in one armpit, and in the right light you could see right through it, something he delighted in.

Like the one night in the living room when he'd had his hand through that tear and he'd teased and tugged on her nipples until they were swollen to twice their normal size, until they were very, very visible through the Kings logo. When she'd tried to touch him in return, he'd trapped her arms at her sides with his ridiculously muscled thighs, playing with her breasts until they were so sensitive that when he blew across the top of her chest, she felt bit of it.

"Okay, that's just cruel," she whispered, squeezing her thighs closer together, ignoring the tingling in her nipples at the memory. She licked her lips as she remembered how the rest of the night had progressed, from her twisting over and returning the favor, before slipping further down and licking every inch of his cock until he came, to when he'd pulled her back into his lap and sucked on her nipples through the shirt until all it took was a flick of her clit to send her crumbling into pieces in his arms.

_F: You know it's my favorite_

_O: Is that all?_

_F: Panties too_

_O: Take them off_

"What?" she asked the screen, and she laughed. "Oliver…"

Like he knew exactly how she was reacting, he texted,

_O: Off_

For a second, she considered it. Her fingers tingled as she rotated her hips, thinking back to the three fingers Oliver had had buried inside her that morning.

She knew he had to be bored, but she also knew that he needed to be paying attention. Whenever emergency board meetings were called, it was usually for a reason. A really, really crappy reason, if she had anything to say about it that night, but a reason nonetheless. Sometimes it was an issue with investor, or a public relations fiasco, or some weird inter-office scandal that couldn't wait until the daylight hours… whatever it was, the CEO of the company was called in for a reason.

And that reason was not to sext his girlfriend during said meeting.

_O: You're thinking too much_

Felicity scoffed at the phone. "I am not."

_F: They'll be off when you get home. Now pay attention_

_O: Felicity_

_F: I'll be waiting_

_O: You're mean_

She chuckled.

_O: Be done soon_

_F: :D_

_O: They better be off_

_F: Yes sir_

He didn't respond. When her phone didn't chime again, she finally put it aside.

Ignoring the slickness pooling between her legs, Felicity turned back to the movie, but it had lost all of its appeal. She switched Netflix off and started flipping through the channels, feeling an annoying disappointment settling in when her phone still didn't chime.

A few minutes passed of her being overly aware of the dull throb starting to build between her legs and not seeing anything on the television before she glanced at her phone, which was still not making a sound.

Dang it. Yes, past-Felicity _was_ a buzzkill. No, she was a cock-block. She was her own cock-block. Can a girl be cock-blocked?

Felicity grabbed her phone, thumbing it on. He was the one who'd started it, and the one who would have to sext while in a meeting. Sext. What a weird word, sext. And look at her - she was a weird someone who had told her boyfriend to behave when he wanted to sext.

"Way to go, Smoak," she said, tossing her phone aside. She shifted again, feeling how slippery she was getting, and she readjusted, her stiff nipples scraping against the soft material of the shirt. She lifted up to pull it out from underneath her where it was bunching when her hand brushed over her chest, slipping across the hard peaks.

The slight touch sent a shot of desire straight through her center and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, shifting her legs again.

An image of Oliver rose unbidden in her mind, of him sitting in the meeting, staring at his phone. What would he have asked her to do?

She closed her eyes, her hand slipping down her side, but it wasn't her touch she felt - it was Oliver's, and the thought ignited a low burn in the pit of her stomach.

She glanced at the television, still on mute, and then to the closed window and partially open bedroom door, her body starting to dance with anticipation, her fingers itching to slip further down.

She could be responsible _and_ play, right?

Rolling onto her back, Felicity skimmed her hands down her stomach, settling into the center of the bed. She closed her eyes, her hands coming back up to her breasts where she palmed them, her nipples hardening even more as she thought about Oliver's hands on them, the rough callouses on his palms scraping at her. She licked her lips, tugging her shirt up to slip her hands underneath, sighing when she touched her naked skin.

She tweaked her nipples, seeing Oliver's hands instead. He had such beautiful hands - they were used, scarred, rough and had seen more pain than any one person should have to endure… but he always touched her so gently, so knowingly. They were always tan somehow, a shocking contrast to her pale chest. He would play with her, roll her nipple between his sure fingers before his lips would wrap around it.

Felicity keened, arching her back into her hands, feeling his stubble scratching at the sensitive skin of her breast, his tongue flicking her nipple.

Felicity abandoned her one breast and slid her hand down and into her panties, bracing her legs on the bed as she moved her hips up to meet her fingers. She was already wet, her panties damp, and she slid her fingers through her juices before finding the little bundle of nerves as she imagined Oliver dragging his face across her stomach, the way he did it that always set her entire body on fire.

She loved his stubble, how rough and soft at the same time it was, how it felt when he kissed her, or when he pressed tender kisses down her body…

Her fingers pressed to her clit, making her hips jerk up, and she started rubbing gently as she imagined Oliver's fingers instead. And they would be in his office, in his conference room, where he sat at the head of the table and the cool glass on her back as he pressed his fingers against her harder, sending her higher, rubbing faster…

"Oliver," Felicity gasped, arching her back off the bed, a low pressure starting to build inside as she rubbed faster. She bit her lip, chasing her crisis, moaning when the tiny inferno started, when it started building, and she moved her hand faster, her mind flashing to Oliver's face pressed against her inner thigh, his stubble on the thin skin there, his fingers touching her, his hand grabbing her hip to keep her still as she…

Her phone chimed.

It broke through her pleasure haze instantly.

Felicity froze, her breathing erratic, her entire lower half aching with unreleased tension as the orgasm slowly backed off. She opened her eyes and glared at her phone before reaching for it, her hand still in her panties. She fumbled with it for a second, her heart starting to slow down when she saw it was a text from Oliver.

_O: Don't come yet_

It took her a moment to realize what he was saying and she frowned at the screen. "What?"

"I thought you said those would be off," a voice said from the hallway and Felicity dropped her phone in shock, narrowly avoiding it hitting her in the face as she twisted to see Oliver coming into the bedroom. She yanked her hand out of her panties and propped herself up on her elbows, a rush of heat scorching across her face as she realized that Oliver had just caught her masturbating.

Her jaw dropped as embarrassment swept through her. Logically she knew she had nothing to be embarrassed about, this was perfectly normal and healthy and all that, but she _was_… because she was, that's why.

"You're home," she said dumbly.

She could barely see his smirk in the flickering television screen.

He didn't reply.

Instead he approached the bed and grabbed her hips. Felicity let out a small, "Eep!" as he twisted her on the comforter and then tugged her to the edge of bed where he leaned over her.

_Loomed_ was more of what he was doing, she realized, as she stared up at him with wide eyes where he hovered over her.

Without breaking eye contact, he grabbed her hand - the hand that was covered in her quickly drying wetness - and he sucked her index finger into his mouth.

Felicity gasped, a rush of heat sweeping through her as his tongue swirled around her finger, sucking it clean.

Oh god.

_Oh god_.

This was quite possibly the most erotic thing she had ever seen. Ever felt. Anything ever.

He released her finger and said, his voice carnally low, "You started without me."

"I, uh…" she stuttered, but then he sucked her middle finger between his lips and she nearly came right then. Her eyes switched to his mouth, the sight a heady one as he moved on to her ring finger, and everything below her waist was positively throbbing with need as she ached to feel his tongue doing _that_ to her down _there_.

He released her finger, his lips grazing down her palm and her arm, and she tried to catch her breath enough to say, "How was the meeting?" when he said her name - _Fe-li-ci-ty_ \- and then his lips covered hers. She moaned, tasting a hint of herself on his tongue as he ravaged her, his body draping over hers, pressing her into the mattress. Felicity opened herself to him, and inhaled sharply as when he pressed his very obvious erection right where she needed it.

Oliver broke away, and she didn't have time to think when his fingers hooked in her panties as he slid back off the bed, landing on his knees before her. She vaguely realized he was still dressed for the meeting in his suit although his tie was loosened, the buttons at his throat undone and one side of the suit was wrinkled, like he'd been leaning against a wall.

His voice was severe as he said, "You said these would be off," and then he tugged them down her hips. Felicity barely managed to lift her legs to assist when they were gone and he pressed his hands up her thighs, spreading her open before him.

"Oliver," she whispered, her voice laced with need. She watched him as he took the sight of her in. She could see the glistening wetness between her legs as he spread her legs further apart. His eyes moved up to meet hers. She moaned deep in her throat at the darkness swirling in his gaze.

He didn't say a word as he lifted her legs and tossed them over his shoulders. Felicity's fingers tangled in the comforter, looking for traction as he gripped her hips tightly, yanking her closer to him before he leaned in, his eyes still locked on hers, and licked her from her soaking entrance all the way up to her clit.

"Oh, god, Oliver," she whispered, arching her back to get closer to him, but he nailed her hips in place, keeping her still as he flicked his tongue across the overly-sensitive nubbin. It was already primed from her ministrations, she'd been so close before, and now he was spreading her wide with his face, his tongue caressing her exactly how she had imagined he would, the pressure starting to build rapidly.

He was unrelenting, both soft and hard, his stubbled chin scraping at her entrance. Felicity pulled him closer, squeezing his head between her thighs as she ground down against him, seeking more friction, need starting to consume everything. She keeled when he pressed his face harder against her sex, his hands holding her down tightly.

His lips wrapped around her clit, sucking it rough enough for her to see stars, and she blindly reached for him, her fingers grasping at his hair, holding him closer as the pleasure coiled white hot inside her. She heard herself saying something, knowing words were coming out, but all she could concentrate on was the yearning inside her, tuned into everything he was doing to her, white noise consuming her mind…

Everything started to tingle with awareness, all of it shooting straight for her core when Oliver scraped his teeth over her clit.

Felicity came hard with a sharp yell, her back bowing, the orgasm ripping through her. Oliver didn't let her go, his grip on her hips tightening, but his tongue relented, softening as he rode out the orgasm with her, prolonging it until her hips were jerking against him in sporadic aftershocks.

"Oliver," she moaned, her fingers running along his scalp, and it took her a moment to feel her lungs start to work again. Her limbs were limp, her head full of cotton, and she shivered as his hands ran over her stomach. She keened when he dropped a wet kiss to her lower abdomen.

Felicity opened her eyes, watching him wipe his face - and why was that so damn sexy? He grinned at her, and she had just enough energy to move towards him, using his arms as anchors to pull herself up.

"Hi," she said, angling her head for a kiss.

"Hi," he replied, pressing his lips to hers. She moaned, tasting both of them, running her tongue across his lower lip. Her fingers found his belt, which she deftly undid as the kiss became more heated. She shoved them down his hips, followed by his boxer briefs.

"How was your meeting?" she asked breathlessly, wrapping her fingers around his rock hard cock. Oliver gritted his teeth, his forehead falling against hers as he thrust into her tightening grip. She ran her thumb over the head of it, spreading a tiny bead of precum, and his hips jerked.

"I don't remember," he replied, and he slid his arms under her legs, tossing her further up the bed before crawling on top of her.

The End

* * *

If you recognize where some of those first lines came from, kudos on excellent movie taste!

I wrote this with the intention of a follow-up - sometimes you just need to know sexting is an option for next time… :P

If ya'll have ideas or something you'd like to see, drop me a line on Tumblr (I'm dust2dust34), or in the comments/reviews!

Reviews literally feed my muse and soul.


	3. Home

**Home**

By Bre (dust2dust34)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Arrow.  
Rating: Explicit  
Author's Notes: Part of my Heartbeats Olicity ficlet collection.

Summary: Alternate 3x17 ficlet. It isn't a kiss on the cheek they share in the foundry.

* * *

"Thanks."

"For what?" Oliver asked, brow furrowing in confusion as he watched her approach. His heart stuttered when she didn't pause, when she didn't stop. Instead, a slow grin lifted her lips as she said, "For proving me right."

He knew she was going to kiss his cheek. He knew that was where she intended her lips to go by the way she grabbed his arm and lifted herself on her toes to reach him. Oliver knew that, in some place where he was more calm and logical.

_He knew that_.

It didn't stop him from instinctively turning to catch it, though. He just moved, without a single thought to what he was doing or _why_ he was doing it, he turned into her touch and where her lips were supposed to have brushed his cheek, where she was supposed to have let him go and he was supposed to have never touched her… instead, she kissed his lips. It wasn't beautiful or graceful or anything for the books, but it _was_. It was everything. Everything he didn't let himself think about, everything he felt in the pit of his stomach whenever he was near her, whenever he could watch her when she wasn't looking, whenever she smiled at him or their eyes caught. But those were mere seconds, seconds to carry him through his decision – his _choice_ – never to be acted on.

Until her lips touched his.

They both froze. He felt her grip on his arm tightening, her stutter of breath. She was pressed so closely to him he could feel her heart racing, humming in time with his own, and then she pulled away. He expected her eyes to be wide, for her to play it off, to say something to alleviate the tension that was filling the room like concrete, but she didn't.

Oh god, she didn't.

Instead Felicity's eyes were hooded, her breathing heavy, her grip tight. His hands tingled with awareness, his body like a live wire waiting to be satiated, and everything since seeing her leaning on Palmer in the office, since seeing them be so light and carefree with each other, laughing and easy and so… so perfect, but with the wrong man…

He snapped.

"Felicity," Oliver breathed and he grabbed her face between his hands, pressing his lips to hers. She made a sound, a quiet unassuming sound and she froze for a split second, long enough for him to realize what he was doing, but then she reacted. She _responded_.

She moaned against his lips, kissing him back with equal ardor and every single inch of him positively _sang_. He felt her fingers grappling at his jacket, squeezing it in tight fists before they were pushing underneath, against his chest, pulling him closer. The kiss was everything that hadn't been said since that night of their date, since the scene outside QC, since the hospital – everything that he had wanted but had denied himself for so long.

It had been the right decision, he _knew this_, but he couldn't stop. He'd wanted her for so long, he'd needed her for so long, and she was here.

Everything became instinct. She dropped her purse with a loud clang as he moved to shove her jacket off her shoulders. Her hands dragged down to the hem of his shirt, pushing up underneath it and he hissed when her nails scratched at his abdomen, at his jeans, tugging him closer.

He didn't realize he was moving them until she stumbled, her lips never leaving his, and Oliver swooped down, tugging her dress up to lift her up into his arms. She said something – his name – before her lips were on his again, her arms around his neck, her nails scraping at his scalp as they carded through his hair.

Every inch of him was so alive – he'd thought being near her was a drug, but this was so much more. She was everything, the one to challenge him, to love, to live with him, to be with him… everything.

Her back hit a stone column somewhere, he didn't even know where he had walked them, but neither cared. Her hands were moving down, tugging at his clothes as they nipped at each other's lips, and her deft fingers found his belt. She fumbled with it for a second before he hiked her up higher and braced her against the wall, his hands flying to his belt to do it for her. He had the belt undone and his jeans unzipped before either could think about what was happening.

For so long he'd denied himself of her. Loved her from afar, knowing she deserved so much better, knowing he could never give her the life she truly deserved in this world, be everything she deserved, but just this once… just this once, he needed to be selfish. He needed her, and she was here, needing him back just as strongly, and he wouldn't have stopped for anything in the world.

"Oliver," she whispered, grasping his shoulders and he released his cock, pressing himself between her legs where he was met with a thin barrier. She shoved her hand between them and pressed the material aside, and he pressed the back of his hand against the wet heat there, his eyes closing with a deep groan.

"Don't stop," she said, pulling back. He looked at her, and she cupped his cheek, both of them pausing as she met his eyes. She shook her head, eyes brimming with emotions he'd never seen reflected so clearly back at him, repeating, "Don't stop, Oliver."

Without a word, he found her entrance and thrust in. She groaned at the shallow depth, her eyes nearly rolling closed, but she kept them open, kept them locked on his as he gritted his teeth.

"Please," she said, nodding her head rapidly, something so much more than anything physical passing between them before he nodded back.

And then he thrust home.

It was powerful and quick – it was months, _months_, of pent up emotions, frustration and anger and pain and loss. It was like they had been on the brink since that first night, waiting for each other, waiting to finish what had just started to begin before everything blew up in their face.

He growled her name, pressing her up against the wall, his hips pistoning against her, and she keened against him, pressing her chest into his, grasping his shoulders. His lips found her pulse point, kissing up to her jaw and she pulled his head up, their lips crashing together.

He felt the beginnings of the tingle in the base of his spine, every nerve in his body starting to burn as his crisis fast approached. He braced her against the pillar, reaching between them and finding the sensitive little nubbin that had her gasping, his name falling from her lips over and over until she fell. She came with a sharp yell, her back bowing, her silken walls clamping down on him, and he lost all control, nailing her to the wall as he thrust into her, harder and harder until his own orgasm shattered through him.

"Felicity," he gasped, hugging her to him as tightly as he could. She said something that he couldn't hear past the rush of white noise in his head, but he did feel her hands grasping the back of his neck, felt her fingers on the side of his face as she cradled him between her legs, and he shivered at her touch.

For the longest time, he could only think one thing:

_Home._

The End

* * *

Reviews literally feed my muse and soul.


	4. Aesthetics

**Aesthetics**

By Bre (dust2dust34)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Arrow.  
Rating: Explicit  
Author's Notes: Part of my Heartbeats Olicity ficlet collection. Bre's dream Season 3 reality where Olicity is established, and Thea and Oliver share the loft.

Summary: He had always loved a woman's ass, but Felicity's was in another realm.

Awesome Anon Prompt: "I love your fuckening fic smuts! and I have a prompt, oliver worshipping felicitys glorious ass in bed!"

* * *

He stared at the fire, the gentle flames that were more for visual appeal than anything related to heat doing a fine job of keeping a tiny warm cocoon wrapped around them where they were laid out in the center of the loft, right in front of the thin stream of the fireplace.

The only light in the large room came from the flickering flames and the cityscape, highlighting the dips and curves of her back where she laid on her stomach, her face turned to the fire, her arms curled in against her sides as she slept on the makeshift bed he'd thrown together from his sheets and comforter.

His eyes followed the lines of her body.

She was naked, the firelight doing absolutely wondrous things to her skin, making her look like she was glowing. He was pleasantly numb from their third round, but parts of him he didn't need to be reminded about were starting to ache from being on the hard floor - she would have to pry his fingernails off to get him to admit that his knee was starting to bother him again.

She let out a small snore, the burst of air making the hair over her face flutter.

He smiled, reaching over and tugging the sheet off of her, slowly so she didn't wake, revealing porcelain skin, the dimples at her lower back and the beautiful roundness of her ass followed by luscious thighs and muscular calves that were one hundred percent designed to be showcased with stilettos, like the ones she'd worn to dinner that night.

Oliver scooted closer to her and leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the center of her back.

She sighed and he reached up, running his fingers down her spine, tracing the curvature all the way down until he reached his very favorite spot in the entire world.

Scooting down as she shifted on his comforter, Oliver moved until he was he was on his side and propped his head on one hand while the other reached out and traced a gentle line over the perfect curve of her voluptuous ass. It had had him transfixed long before he was even aware he thought of her as something more than a friend, long before she started wearing tighter skirts and dresses, higher heels that only drove him more crazy; and she damn well knew what it did to him when she bent over to pick something up, or leaned over her desk instead of sitting in her chair.

Felicity twitched in her sleep, but didn't wake, and he licked his lips, his eyes watching his finger as he drifted down to the soft spot where her thighs began and then back up, drifting up along the sensitive crack, feeling his own body starting to respond to the sight of her laying supine before him, gorgeous and powerful and all his.

She sighed, waking as he dragged his finger back down the center and around a curve.

He palmed one of her cheeks, kneading it and she moaned, turning her back to the fire to face him. She opened her eyes and frowned when she was met with open air before looking down. Amusement lit her eyes.

"Oliver, what are you doing?" she asked, her voice raspy with sleep and overuse.

"Nothing," he replied, eyes drifting back to her ass. Her very, very beautiful ass that was all his. He ran his hand over each round cheek and she let out a little laugh.

"That doesn't feel like nothing," she said, her voice hitching, and he looked back up to see her staring down at him with hooded eyes.

"Okay," he acquiesced. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to one cheek, his eyes on her as her lids fluttered shut and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. He dragged his lips across her ass. "I was just enjoying one of my favorite spots…" He pressed a wet kiss. "Of your beautiful body."

"Oh," she replied breathlessly, her breathing starting to increase. She scooted closer to him as he wrapped his arm around her, pressing his bicep up against the curve of her ass, pressing her cheeks up and together. He littered kisses down across each one, loving the tiny sounds coming out of her throat as she started to squirm.

"It's perfect," Oliver whispered, dragging his lips over her skin.

"Oliver," she whimpered, her fingers twisting in the comforter, and he looked up to see her eyes closed, still trying to wake up, helpless against his ministrations.

"It's so full," he continued, pressing a hard kiss. "And firm." He pressed another. "It looks amazing in _everything_."

Felicity chuckled, and he pulled back, his eyes glued on her ass as it shook beautifully along with her giggles. Oliver's hand slid down her side and up over her hip, caressing one cheek. She stilled underneath him, her breath hitching as he increased the pressure, the tiny movement making her ass shake again.

"I love how much it moves when you laugh," he said, and she snorted quietly. "It's gorgeous. Every," He pressed a kiss, "Inch," Another kiss, "Of it."

She sighed, relaxing into his touch and he had a wicked thought. He laid his hand on her back and brought it down, his fingertips dragging across her skin, down her glorious ass and between her thighs as he mused softly, "I wonder what it would look like when you're coming on my fingers."

"Oliver," she whispered, her thighs squeezing together despite the censor in her voice.

He smiled.

"I love watching your face when you come, Felicity," he whispered, lowering his face back down as she let out a breathy gasp at the words. His voice was low, his lips pressed to her ass. "You are stunning, and watching you let go like you do, how your skin turns pink when you're so close." She shuddered, making her ass shake again and he felt his cock growing harder as his voice got deeper. "That noise you make when I'm eating you out; when you're on top of me, using me for your own pleasure, so wet and tight…"

"Oliver," she choked out, her hips squirming, and he grinned before giving one cheek a little nip, eliciting a noise very similar to the one he'd just described, his eyes on her. Her back was flush with color, her mouth open in a silent pant, her hands fisted in the comforter.

He paused, watching her, his chest expanding with everything this woman made him feel.

"You are so beautiful, Felicity," he whispered.

She smiled, and the flush over her back grew deeper at his words.

Nothing he said would truly encapsulate what he felt for her, what she meant to him, how she had brought more light into his life than he had ever thought he was worthy of. Oliver closed his eyes and pressed his lips reverently to the sensitive skin right below the slight dimples on her back, his tongue darting out and she gasped, her hips lifting closer to him.

"I love you," he breathed, the simple words saying so much more than that.

Before she could respond, he pulled back, his hand slipping down to caress her ass again. He gripped it in a tight hold, making her gasp and arch her hips up to take away some of the sting and he took advantage of the opening, slipping his hand between her legs to the wet heat waiting for him.

She was already slick from their earlier lovemaking, her thighs sticky with both of them, and he pressed two fingers against her entrance, making her moan.

"Spread your legs, Felicity," he said. She immediately did, letting him slide his fingers through her juices and up to her clit. She gave him a guttural groan, her hips jerking against his fingers, making her ass jiggle. He licked his lips, watching her move, caressing her clit with gentle strokes, a rush of wetness coating his hand. She shifted her leg again, and pressed her thigh right up against his hard cock, making him clench his jaw.

Keeping himself propped up on his elbow, Oliver laid his free hand over her lower back to keep her still before he slid his fingers back to her puffy entrance. She moaned, pressing her hips down for more and he obliged, pressing them in slightly. She clamped down around him, and he bit the tip of his tongue to keep his hips from jerking his eager cock against her supple body.

"Tell me what you want, Felicity," he whispered.

"Inside," she said, her voice cracking with sensation as she spread her legs further, her thigh rubbing up against his cock again and his hips thrust against her of their own volition, her words only making his need for her worse. "I want you inside me, Oliver, inside me, please…"

Oliver eased his fingers into her and she groaned, her walls clamping down around him. She arched her back again, lifting herself for more traction, but Oliver kept her down, his eyes on her ass as it moved in time with her tiny push.

"Ride my fingers, Felicity," he said hoarsely, but she was already moving, in small thrusts as she did just that.

Oliver watched transfixed as her ass flexed each time she pressed her hips down, seeking friction on her clit as she moved. She let out a high-pitched moan when she found it.

He had always loved a woman's ass, but Felicity's was in another realm. Hers moved in time with her hips as she rode his fingers, the noises she was making telling him she was well on her way to her release. A light sheen of sweat covered her skin, making her glow even more in the fire, and Oliver twisted his hand, curving his fingers slightly, just enough, finding the spot they had spent many, many hours exploring a while ago.

"Oh god," Felicity gasped. "There, right there!" Her hips moved more urgently, her ass swaying more fervently.

Her juices were soaking his fingers, making her movements more slick, everything feeling silken, and he curved his fingers more as she started to rotate her hips in quick circles, her breathless moans getting louder, echoing in the loft. They became more pitched, more drawn out as she thrust faster against his fingers.

Oliver bent over and pressed his lips to her ass. She mewled loudly, her movements losing all coordination.

He laved his tongue over the sensitive spot before he started sucking and then he sunk his teeth into the tender skin.

Felicity shouted throatily, arching into his mouth, moving wildly underneath him. He sucked harder on the same spot and Felicity came with a violent start.

"Oliver!" Felicity shouted, her walls clamping down on his fingers. Oliver kept his face pressed to her as he pushed a third finger into her tight channel, moving his hand rapidly, chasing the waves of the orgasm, triggering another onslaught that had her keening his name again, her walls sucking him back in with each thrust.

She whimpered his name, jerking her hips back to meet his fingers when her damn thigh rubbed against him _again_.

Oliver was up on his knees without a second though, gently lifting her up on her shaky limbs. She was trying to catch her breath as he gripped her hips, spreading the wetness on his hand all over her as he pressed the head of his cock against her soaking sex, waiting.

"Yes," she whispered, nodding her head, pressing back against him in encouragement, and he thrust in to the hilt.

Oliver groaned a series of unintelligible words, his grip on her punishing as she pulsed around him.

He pulled back slowly, gritting his teeth, pleasure swamping him and he thrust in again, the sensation overwhelming as his hips moved.

The sound of skin slapping skin grew louder, echoing harshly in the room and Oliver gripped her close, bracing one hand on her lower back, his eyes on her ass.

The spot where he'd sucked and bitten her was already a bright red bruise, growing darker with each passing second, and it looked amazing as his eyes strayed to where his cock disappeared into her, her juices coating him catching the firelight. It was gorgeous and sexy as hell.

It only took a few deep thrusts before Oliver lost it and with one final thrust, he spilled into her with a raspy moan, falling over her, wrapping his arm around her breasts, plastering his chest to her back.

"Felicity," he groaned against her shoulder, their skin sticky with sweat. Her walls were still pulsating around him without rhythm, milking more out of him and he pressed his hips further against her ass, making her moan, her face buried in the comforter.

He felt goosebumps erupting over her skin from his breathing across her back and she shivered, turning her face out of the blanket.

"Oliver?"

"Huh?" he managed.

Her voice was breathless as she asked, "Did you give me a hickey on my butt?"

Oliver laughed, and they both moaned in discomfort as the movements pulled on their sensitive flesh. With a low moan, Oliver pulled out of her.

Felicity collapsed onto the blankets and he followed suit. She crawled over to him and he wrapped her up in his arms, chuckling again when she mumbled something about being messy and sticky when his semi-hard cock smeared their combined mess all over her stomach.

He reached around her and grabbed her ass, pressing her flush against him, and she yelped.

His voice was rough with satiation and amusement as he said, "There definitely might be a hickey on your butt."

The End

* * *

I hope this met the request! It was supposed to be a simple ode to Felicity's glorious ass, but Oliver wanted so much more, the damn insatiable man. I have a lot of awesome prompts to go through, but I always love getting more for some Olicity smut - if you have some ideas or something you'd like to see, I would love to hear them and love to write them - drop me a ask on Tumblr (I'm dust2dust34) or in the reviews/comments!

Reviews literally feed my muse and soul.


	5. Drabble: Garter Belt

**Garter Belt**

By Bre (dust2dust34)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Arrow.  
Rating: Explicit  
Author's Notes: Part of my Heartbeats Olicity smutlet collection.

Summary: Smut Drabble Prompt: dettiot – "felicity? is that-is that a garter belt?"

* * *

**"Felicity? Is that... is that a garter belt?"**

Oliver's rough voice had Felicity looking back at him over her shoulder, her eyebrows raised before she innocently looked down at where her skirt had ridden up. She reached back, lifting it higher, making his breath hitch as it revealed more of her pale skin, an erotic contrast with the black lacy material.

She made a show of examining it before saying, "I think it is, Oliver."

He swallowed audibly, his eyes glued to her leg. "And why are you wearing it _here_?"

Felicity smoothed her skirt back in place, hiding the garter once again before turning back to where she'd been laying out the packets for the investors meeting in his conference room.

"Now that's just a silly question," she said, leaning over again, her skirt going up _again_. She smirked when he let out a quiet moan from where he stood at the conference room entrance.

"Silly?" he repeated.

She looked back at him, and it was her turn to pause when she saw the dark lust in his eyes. Breathing became slightly difficult when his eyes slowly tracked up her body until his eyes met hers and she licked her lips.

"It matches my panties."

She wasn't sure what she was expecting him to do, but just _stand there_ sure wasn't it. She lifted an eyebrow, waiting for more, but he didn't move, his eyes boring into hers. With a soft shrug, she turned back to the packets, leaning over to continue placing them in their respective chairs.

She didn't hear him move.

Hard hands gripped her waist, making her yelp and drop her packets as he forced her forward on the conference table. She braced herself on her elbows, his fingers finding her thighs before Oliver shoved her skirt up all the way, revealing the tiny black thong she was wearing that did indeed match the garter belt looped around her waist.

He let out a tremulous breath, his fingers following the lines, his touch setting her nerve endings on fire as he lightly dragged his fingers over her hips, down her ass and back up.

"Oliver, the meeting," she said, and she was darn proud that her voice didn't waver as he touched her.

And then his fingers slipped between her thighs, her wet arousal already soaking through her panties, and she let out a slight mewl when he swirled his finger through her thong, grazing her clit just enough to make her hips jerk against his touch.

"I," Oliver started, pressing the thong out of the way and slipping a finger against her slick entrance. She gasped, her nails digging into the table. "Don't give two shits about the meeting, Felicity."

And then she heard his zipper, and his hands were on her hips, lifting her higher.

"And if you did, you shouldn't have worn this."

He hooked his finger in her thong, pulling it up out of the way before he thrust into her.

"Oh god," Felicity gasped, arching her back to meet him His thrusts were quick and ruthless, hitting her deep, and she collapsed on the table, burying her face in her hands to muffle the sharp cries coming from her throat.

They had barely fifteen minutes before the meeting started and she knew he didn't want anyone to catch them like this - Felicity was more than ready to live the rest of the day knowing he got off and her punishment for teasing him would be having to wait until they got home.

But her boyfriend was a kind man. Sort of.

The quick sound of skin slapping skin echoed in the room, echoing his grunts and her whimpers of pleasure. And then Oliver braced himself on the table, pressing her further into the chilled wood, right against her clit, and the harsh rubbing in time with his thrusts set a fire in her center that spread so rapidly she barely caught her breath before she came.

Her shout slammed against the walls of the conference room, followed quickly by Oliver's as he emptied into her. She shuddered on the table, her throat raw from not screaming, as Oliver's thrusts became more shallow, gentler, before stopping altogether.

"Felicity," he said, her name coming out as a groan when he pulled out of her. She didn't move for a second, listening to him right his clothes and then she felt his hand on her lower back as he pressed her thong back between her cheeks.

The intimacy of the act made her shiver, but it paled in comparison when he made sure the thong was _securely_ in place before leaning over her.

"Don't clean yourself up until _after_ the meeting, Ms. Smoak."

* * *

From my "One Line of Dialogue" prompt request on Tumblr (I'm dust2dust34)

Reviews literally feed my muse and soul.


	6. Drabble: Two Can Play This Game

**Two Can Play This Game**

By Bre (dust2dust34)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Arrow.  
Rating: Explicit  
Author's Notes: Part of my Heartbeats Olicity smutlet collection.

Summary: Smut Drabble Prompt: mersayseh – "and just what do you think you're doing?"

* * *

**"And just what do you think you're doing?"**

Felicity hissed the words as low as she could, grabbing Oliver's wrist in a vice grip, yanking it out from between her legs. "Stop it!"

"No," he replied with a knowing smirk on his stupid face, leaning towards her again. She clenched her jaw, her traitorous eyes fluttering when he nuzzled the side of her neck. He pressed soft kisses up along the column, pausing when he reached her ear where he slowly sucked her earlobe into his mouth and bit.

She didn't realize she'd released his wrist until he pressed it between her legs again, jolting her back to reality, and she grabbed it.

"We are in public, Oliver!"

"I know, Felicity," he whispered into her ear, and she shuddered, unwittingly arching into his mouth when he made his way back down her jaw. He pulled his hand free from her hold and touched her chin, tilting her face back so he could slant his mouth of hers.

She should be annoyed, and she was really trying very hard… but the movie was just not that good. Not good enough, at least, to distract her from the nearly empty theater and the fact that they were in the very back and that the movie was definitely loud enough to cover any wayward… sounds, right?

Felicity moaned into his mouth, gripping the lapel of his jacket, opening herself to him. He smiled against her lips, his hand sliding back down her front, grazing over her chest, his fingers dancing across her hardened nipples poking through her sundress, before he slipped it down between her legs.

She didn't stop him this time. Instead, she whimpered, opening her legs for him as his fingers found her wet heat. He moaned his approval, pressing them underneath her panties where her arousal was already pooling from all the _touching_ his wayward hands had done the entire night.

Oliver slipped away long enough to trail his wet fingers along her inner thigh, gripping her knee and he hooked it over the armrest, leaving her spread open for anything he wanted to do to her.

Well, two could play this game.

Felicity broke away from his lips when he slipped two fingers along the side of her clit. She abandoned her death grip on his jacket and grabbed his neck, using it as an anchor to slip her hand between his legs. He let out a startled noise, his fingers curling nicely against her puffy folds.

He was already hard when she cupped him through his slacks, and he groaned, pressing his fingers deep into her as he panted against the side of her neck, digging his forehead into her temple. She closed her eyes, biting her bottom lip when he started a shallow thrust, his thumb seeking out her bundle of nerves.

"Oliver," she moaned as she rubbed him faster through his slacks, her eyes immediately flying open to see if anyone had heard her, but the only people in the theater with them were twenty rows ahead, in a small group, and they were all paying rapt attention to the movie, not the illicit couple in the back.

Who knew she was the kind of girl who did this? She sure as hell didn't. And who knew she would like it so much? Not her.

Oliver adding a third finger and his tongue finding _that spot_ on her neck yanked her out of her thoughts and she unconsciously squeezed his hard cock through his pants, making him jerk, his groan vibrating against her, echoing her racing pulse.

His hips started thrusting against her hand, his breathing becoming more harried and she moved her hand faster, feeling the slight tendrils of pleasure starting to unfurl in the pit of her stomach.

Oliver rasped her name urgently, his movements halting as he thrust up into her hand.

Felicity closed her eyes, gripping the armrest her leg was hooked over as her hips started moving against his hand, seeking her own pleasure, the sound of his tiny cries of pleasure filling her ear as she rubbed him harder, harder, faster.

Felicity let out a short yelp when Oliver slid his wet fingers out of her and found her clit, rubbing it just as quickly and aggressively as she was him, the nubbin slick and hard, already yearning for attention from his ministrations.

"Oh…" she moaned, eyes slipping shut as her release built quickly, his fingers moving so fast, so fast… she barely felt her hand moving over him, or his hips thrusting up against her, or her own hips moving in jerky circles. She turned her face towards him, pressing against his stubbled cheek as they moved against each other, seeking their pleasure. She bit her lip to keep her voice down, and she shuddered when he pressed his lips to her shoulder, both of them moving faster…

A flash of white sheeted over her eyes - and later she would wonder if that had been the movie or if it was actually possible to come _that hard_ \- and she opened her mouth in a silent scream, her back arching as the orgasm crashed through her.

Oliver's free hand slipped between his legs, and he grabbed her hand, pressing it down harder against his cock as he thrust up against them both, rubbing her hand faster before he groaned into her ear, his release spilling inside his pants, a rush of heated wetness staining the front of his pants under her palm where their fingers were interlaced tightly.

"I can't believe I let you do that," Felicity moaned, cracking open an eye to see if anyone had called security, or if there were cameras - god, she didn't think about any _cameras_ \- but she didn't see anything.

"I think the better question is how am I going to walk out of here now?" Oliver asked, glancing down at the wet spot front and center, and Felicity giggled, her shoulder shaking with mirth as she turned to press a kiss to his cheek.

* * *

From my "One Line of Dialogue" prompt request on Tumblr (I'm dust2dust34)

Reviews literally feed my muse and soul.


	7. Drabble: Don't Look Back

**Don't Look Back**

By Bre (dust2dust34)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Arrow.  
Rating: Explicit  
Author's Notes: Part of my Heartbeats Olicity smutlet collection.

Summary: Smut Drabble Prompt: leilanewood – i just needed this.

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Holly (geniewithwifi) wrote a happier sequel to my Nanda Parbat fic _To This Moment_ called A Field of Goodbyes. Please consider this my smangsty sequel if things had gone in the opposite direction… Reading To This Moment is recommended, but not necessary.

* * *

**"I just needed this."**

The words hung in the air between them.

Felicity pressed shaking hands to his chest, blinking rapidly to dispel the thin layer of tears as she bit her lip to keep a sob at bay. They - they as in she, John and Thea only - were due to leave Nanda Parbat in just a few hours… and she wasn't ready. She would never be ready for this. For saying goodbye. For something so final, something that would effectively sever everything between them.

They had spent so much time pretending things would be okay if they never happened, but now that it was upon them… she wasn't ready.

"I just…" she said, her voice wavering. "Needed this."

For the first time in days, she'd found him wandering the halls of the freakishly large compound of the League of Assassins. She had been prepared to step aside, let him slide by - he'd barely slid her a glance - but at the last minute, she'd snapped.

She couldn't leave, not without…

He didn't move and neither did she.

She knew he'd been avoiding her since the morning after their one night together. It had been over a week ago since that night, since she'd finally gotten a taste of what being loved back by the man who owned her heart and soul so completely was like… only to wake up by herself, in a room that no longer held the romantic glow of love and warmth and security.

He had been gone, and she had been alone… until now.

Felicity couldn't look him in the eye. She knew if she did, she knew her Oliver would be shining back at her, from underneath the harsh new veneer of Al-Saheem, Heir to the Demon, the man who would be taking the mantle of the most dangerous man on the planet. She could handle seeing _that man_ looking back at her, because at least then she could pretend that her entire world wasn't falling apart around her, but…

But nothing else.

So Felicity stared at the dark robes he now wore, her hands looking small and pale against his broad chest, lost in a sea of darkness… she bit her lip to keep it from trembling as she touched him, moving her hands over him, seeing in her mind's eye the scars she had traced, the star tattoo, a silent reminder that there was still so much of this man she didn't know about, so many stories he had yet to share, so much about her she wanted to share with him, her own scars…

But they wouldn't get that.

Her hands stilled at the thought, and a second later she pulled them back.

He still hadn't moved, and she still didn't look at him.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. She pointed over her shoulder, closing her eyes. "I'm gonna… go. Now."

Did she say goodbye?

The crack in Felicity's heart she had been carrying around with her since she'd woken to a cold bed that morning, the crack that had slowly grown deeper and deeper when she'd seen the shift in Oliver, seen him go through the ceremony without glancing at her, seen him slowly disappear from the man she loved… shattered when he didn't move.

"Goodbye, Oliver," she whispered, and a burning tear escaped, sliding down her cheek, stinging her dry lips. She closed her eyes, more tears falling, and turned away from him.

"Felicity," he whispered harshly, her name sounding more like a curse than the reverent way he had whispered it for as long as she had known him stopped her dead in her tracks.

Oliver was at her back before she could react. Hard hands gripped her upper arms, tight enough to make her gasp, and then he was spinning them out of the corridor and through one of the doors off the hallway. He had the door open and closed before she could see where they were, and she stumbled in the bleak darkness, running into a high-backed chair.

"Oliver, what-"

Suddenly he was there; he was everywhere.

Felicity gasped as he grabbed her by the waist, yanking her back to his chest, burying his face into her hair. He inhaled quickly, and she felt his entire body trembling against her, so hard she was afraid he was going to hurt himself.

"Oliver," she whispered, her voice cracking and he let out a harsh breath against her ear, and she felt something wet fall onto her collarbone. Was he crying? Her own tears rushed to the surface, flooding her vision and she blindly spun, reaching for him the same time he did, just as they had that night.

Their lips crashed together violently, their emotions raw like someone had stripped them of all their nerve endings and put them back frayed and painful to the touch. She held him as tightly as she dared, barely wincing when he wrapped his arms around her tightly, yanking her up against him.

Their teeth clashed as they kissed, their lips pulling and taking equally as Oliver spun them until her back collided with a wall.

The room was still dark, too dark to see anything, and she was glad. She knew she wouldn't be able to do this if she had to look him in the eye, if she had to see her Oliver staring back at her, if she had to see the tears she felt coursing down his cheeks as he hiked her up the wall.

With a growl, he broke away from her, and she heard the whoosh of his robes coming off, followed by his pants, and then his fingers were at her belt, yanking it open and undoing her jeans. She grabbed his shoulders for balance, neither speaking, as he shoved her jeans and panties down her hips and legs. She lifted one leg, kicking her shoe off so he could push the material off, leaving the rest dangling as he surged back up to her, his hands gripping her painfully by the ribs and lifting her up.

He was already ready for her, and she gasped when she felt the head of his cock slide through her wetness. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her head falling back and hitting the rock wall with a pained thud that she barely felt as Oliver positioned himself before sliding in with a precision he had only gained from the hours spent learning every inch of each other as they had.

A sob ripped from Felicity's lips before she could stop it, and she clamped her lips shut, squeezing her eyes closed as Oliver thrust in to the hilt, giving no indication that he had heard her.

He shoved his face against her neck, pulling out and thrusting back in just as violently, and she whimpered in combined pleasure and heart-rending sadness when she felt Oliver's tears against her skin.

This was it. This was their goodbye.

Oliver's thrusts were harsh and uneven, his grunts sounding more like sobs themselves as Felicity wrapped herself around him, taking it, absorbing him and everything he was giving her. It was anger at the situation, pain that they had tasted joy and had had to give it back so quickly. Regret that they had waited so long, rage that it wasn't enough, that it would never be enough.

Felicity's release came on without warning, and it ripped through her like a rusty knife.

She yelped, her head slamming back against the rock wall again as the liquid hot pleasure sluiced through her. She vaguely felt Oliver's thrusts growing more frantic, his hands gripping her so hard she knew they were going to leave bruises and her nails digging in his neck and scalp like she was afraid if she let go even a little, he would be gone again.

Oliver came with a jagged shout, his hips thrusting so hard that Felicity gave him a pained whimper. He spilled into her, filling her completely.

She didn't know how long they stayed like that, breathing each other's air, their combined mess leaking down between them, smearing both of them, before Oliver pulled out of her.

He lowered her gently, keeping his hands on her when she wobbled, before she gave him a short nod. And then she remembered that it was pitch dark, and he couldn't see her, so she whispered, "I'm okay."

It was the biggest lie she'd ever uttered.

He didn't move right away, his hands clenching at her waist for a second, and she closed her eyes, fighting the urge to launch herself at him… when he finally stepped back.

They dressed in silence.

Oliver opened the door, letting light from the corridor spill in and Felicity left first.

She hesitated, keeping her back to him, unable to speak, to think about what they had just done, to even care that she might have made things so much harder, that everything might now be… worse.

She stifled a sob as Oliver closed the door.

And then she turned, finally looking at him.

His face was wet with tears, his eyes red with unshed pain, the blue of his orbs so bright and striking it pierced right through her heart, and she knew he was seeing the same thing in hers.

With a sob, Felicity threw herself at him, and he caught her, their lips crashing together again, one last time. The kiss was powerful and beautiful and painful and everything they couldn't say. It was all the years they were going to miss with each other - both as friends and as lovers - and it was the goodbye they couldn't vocalize.

Oliver pulled back, his grip on her face unyielding as he whispered, "I love you, Felicity, I will _always_ love you."

"I love you," she whispered, her words running together. "I love you too, I love you so much."

With one final squeeze, Oliver turned and walked away from her, not looking back.

After a moment of standing in the corridor, her eyes still closed, her hands still hovering where she had been holding his face, Felicity turned as well, heading towards where the others waited for her, where they were to get on a plane and leave.

Forever.

* * *

From my "One Line of Dialogue" prompt request on Tumblr (I'm dust2dust34)

Reviews literally feed my muse and soul.


	8. Drabble: Mine

**Mine**

By Bre (dust2dust34)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Arrow.  
Rating: Explicit  
Author's Notes: Part of my Heartbeats Olicity smutlet collection.

Summary: Smut Drabble Prompt: Anonymous asked: Olicity-"...I didn't like the way he was looking at you!"

* * *

**"I didn't like the way he was looking at you!"**

"You know what, Oliver, I would find this kind of cute if it wasn't the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

Felicity got the door open and yanked her keys out of the lock. She stepped in quickly, spinning to shut the door in his face, but Oliver's hand shot up, stopping it from smacking him in the nose.

She glared at him and he glared at her.

"I didn't like it," he repeated, and Felicity rolled her eyes.

"This macho crap has to stop," she said, backing up as Oliver stepped into her apartment, shutting the door with way too much force. "He is my boss, Oliver, which means I have to work with him."

"I don't care if you work with him," Oliver growled. "What I care about is that he spent the entire night undressing you with his eyes."

"So what?"

"So…" His words faded as he stared at her. "So what?"

"I'm pretty sure I didn't stutter," Felicity replied saucily, cocking her head, giving him a mocking look.

Oliver just stared at her, his face unreadable in the soft light coming from the overhead stove lamp she'd left on before they'd gone to the fundraiser.

Oliver's hissy fits about Ray Palmer were nothing new, but they were getting worse - and she knew they were in direct correlation with the fact that they'd been working overtime on a new project, and thus spending more time with Ray, but honestly… it was starting to grate on her nerves.

Felicity pulled her bracelets off and dropped them on the coffee table. She started taking her earrings off, making her way to the bedroom. "I don't think you should stay over tonight, Oliver, if this is the way you're going to be acting."

"Felicity."

She stopped, closing her eye for a brief second before turning to face him. He hadn't moved, his eyes locked on her where he still stood by the front door, his face cut by the angular harsh shadows of the dark living room.

"What?"

His reply was to remove his suit jacket, tossing it haphazardly on the couch before unbuttoning his shirtsleeves. Felicity watched, her brow furrowing as he rolled them up, before he ate up the space between them in a few long strides.

She fought the urge to take a step back at the intensity in his blue eyes - which she knew from experience were so much darker than his normal ocean blue considering the way he was looking at her.

Oliver cupped her face in an unyielding grip, tilting her head back as he pressed his chest against her, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You, Felicity Meghan Smoak…" he whispered. "Are mine."

She shivered at the vehemence in his voice, his eyes drilling a dark promise into hers.

Hard fingers titled her head back further, one hand sliding to cup the back of her neck in a strong grip as his thumb drifted over her bottom lip. Felicity whimpered at the slight sensation and she licked her lip involuntarily, like she was chasing his touch. His face darkened at the sight, the hand on her neck tightening.

"You are my girlfriend," he continued. "My partner."

His hand slipped from her neck and down her shoulder, his finger hooking in the silky strap of the beautiful silk dress she'd found earlier that week. It draped over her every curve, and she'd known it was a hit when she'd seen the look on Oliver's face when she'd put it on for him a few days ago.

Although this wasn't exactly how she'd imagined him taking it off her.

That sure didn't mean the butterflies ramming themselves against her chest plate weren't present, or knots of anticipation weren't tangling together in her stomach, or a fine tremble in her hands wasn't making her itch to touch him.

Somehow he'd taken her from pissed as hell and straight to ready-to-rip-the-damn-dress-off-herself in barely a few seconds.

"I'm the only one who gets to see you like this, Felicity…"

The dress slipped off her shoulder, exposing her left breast. Without taking his eyes off her, Oliver's hand slid down and he palmed it, his rough palm scratching at her hardening nipple.

She took a stuttering breath.

"I am the only one who can kiss you," he said softly, pressing his lips chastely to hers the very moment he pinched her nipple. Felicity hissed, arching into his touch and he smiled. "I'm the only one who can touch you like this."

Felicity moaned, her eyes fluttering shut and Oliver pressed his lips to the tip of her nose, peppering small kisses all along the bridge of her nose and back down where he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, making her whine as he held her immobile.

His hands slid down, pushing the silk dress off her other shoulder and down her body, past her hips until it pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but a skimpy lace thong. The apartment was chilly from being empty all night, and she shivered, although she wasn't sure if it was from the cold air or the look in his eye as he greedily took her in.

When his eyes dragged back up to hers, she bit her lip.

With confidant, sure hands, Oliver interlaced his fingers with hers, urging her to step out of her dress. She didn't ask about the shoes - she knew he liked them on.

He spun her, pressing his chest to her back as he wrapped his arm around her hip, a firm hand gripping her hip bone to keep her in place as his other hand moved achingly slow down her stomach, making her shiver and arch into him as he slid his fingers into her thong.

Felicity gasped, her head falling back on his shoulder, his fingers slipping through the slick heat that had been pooling since the instant he said, "You, Felicity Meghan Smoak, are mine."

His fingers dipped down to her entrance, pressing past her nether lips, dipping into her wetness before sliding back up to her clit and she whimpered his name, turning to wrap herself around him.

"Don't move, Felicity," he said tightly.

She dropped her hands instantly at the gruff command, shuddering under his touch as pleasure blossomed inside her. She glanced down at where his hand disappeared into her thong, and a rush of arousal seared through her, a rush of warmth coating his fingers and her panties at the sight.

Oliver's jaw was clenched, his body hard against her quickly melting one as he caressed her delicate nubbin. His fingers pressed harder, demanding more, sliding over the more sensitive right side and she jerked in his arms.

He rubbed, in deep, even strokes, igniting a fire deep in her stomach that started to spread like fire in her veins, spiraling out from her center as he ground against her, their bodies swaying in time with his touch.

"Oh god," Felicity whispered, digging her nails into her thigh to keep from grabbing him as white hot pressure started coiling inside her.

Her legs felt like liquid as the pleasure grew headier - it was like a large boulder settling inside her, growing heavier with each of his commanding strokes, pushing her forward, urging more out of her. She started trembling against him, and he held her closer, keeping her anchored as his hand moved.

"Oliver," she keeled, dropping her head back against his shoulder again and Oliver pressed his face into her neck, his lips finding her ear. His hot lips sucked on her earlobe and then he bit down gently, making her cry out.

"Say it, Felicity," he whispered harshly, his hand moving faster. "Say it."

"Y-yours," she gasped, her mind staring to scatter as her release built. "I'm yours. Yours… yours… yours…"

A low moan sounded from deep in her chest. Her hips moved of their own accord against his hand, seeking more friction, more pressure, just more and he delivered, his hand rubbing her clit harder, stroking her in tight little circles that had her sharp cries echoing through the apartment before it hit.

Felicity came with a shout, her back bowing, Oliver gripping her hip and cupping his hand over her sex to keep her in place. The hard dig of his fingers against her sensitive skin propelled her into a sharper orgasm, one that knocked her legs right out from under her.

Oliver's arm wrapped around her waist, catching her before she could fall and he stepped back a few paces, carrying her with him. He found the couch and he pulled her down with him, situating her limp, pleasure-numbed body over his.

It took her a few minutes to realize his hand was still in her panties, her back pressed to his heaving chest.

Her legs were hooked over his thighs, his legs spread, stretching her wide open to him.

She blinked, trying to catch her breath, and she found her lungs incapable of anything past existing when his other hand slipped into her panties as well, three fingers pressing to her soaking entrance as his other hand slowly stroked her abused clit.

"Oliver," she whined, arching her back, not sure if she wanted to get closer or further away.

"One more time," Oliver grunted in her ear, his hips jerking up against her ass, his hard cock straining against his pants as he thrust all three fingers into her.

* * *

From my "One Line of Dialogue" prompt request on Tumblr (I'm dust2dust34)

Reviews literally feed my muse and soul.


	9. Drabble: Please StopNever Stop

**Please Stop/Never Stop**

By Bre (dust2dust34)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Arrow.  
Rating: Explicit  
Author's Notes: Part of my Heartbeats Olicity smutlet collection.

Summary: Smut Drabble Prompt: vampirebarbiecare – Haha, that's great that you are having fun writing them, then it wld make it easier for me to request for a sequel for the latest Nanda Parbhat drabble where Olicity meets after a few years have passed. Pretty please? Hehe.. Just think of the smangst potential there.. Or even just plain angst!

* * *

This is a thank you to Lulu (vampirebarbiecare) for featuring Blood Hands as her Fiction of the Month!

I wrote a Nanda Parbat spec fic called To This Moment, which I continued in a prompt fic called Don't Look Back.

This is a sequel to that.

* * *

Felicity knew he was there before she saw him.

She felt his eyes on her, a tiny spark that slowly morphed into a flame as awareness danced under her skin

It had been over seven years since Nanda Parbat. Seven years of wondering if things might change, of wondering where he was, who he had become, what he was doing; of learning to put her love for him aside, learning to love someone else, learning to lose someone else; of continuing what he had started, with Diggle, Roy and Laurel, and then Thea, and then Ray…

Seven years of existing, but not _living_.

The first time they heard rumors about the League being back in Starling City, Felicity had gone into overdrive. She'd scoured the news, every camera she could get into, every feed she could find; she sent out feelers, stalking people who made any mention of seeing a giant black shadow carrying a bow. Someone even tweeted, _'Holy shit, is the #Arrow back?'_ Nobody ever saw anything definitive - the League lived up to its reputation: they were ghosts, slipping in to do one task before slipping away again.

For days she sat in the new Arrow Cave - she still called it the Arrow Cave, even though the Arrow hadn't shown his face in Starling City in two years - until Diggle had appeared behind her, his touch on her shoulder feeling like acid dripping along her nerves.

"_It's not him, Felicity."_

"_Maybe not, but… maybe it is, John. Either way I'm not stopping."_

"_I'm not asking you to stop. I'm asking you to be prepared for when we find out it isn't Oliver."_

When. Not if.

Her searches kept hitting dead end after dead end, but she didn't give up… until she woke up one morning to a note on her pillow.

It was his scrawl, in black pen on a piece of paper from the cartoon birds notepad she kept in the kitchen.

'_Please stop.'_

He'd been in her apartment. He'd stood by her bed, walked through the rooms, picked up a pen - which pen, she'd always wondered, like maybe if she held it the way he had she'd be able to feel him - and… he had done nothing. He'd gotten to see her, but she hadn't gotten to see him - he'd taken that away from her.

Felicity stared at the paper, not moving, afraid to breathe in case it blew the note away as her mind tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

Oliver had been there.

And he wasn't anymore.

An irrational whip of anger had her crumpling the paper and throwing it across the room. He'd been in Starling City this entire time. He had been the shadow people saw, he had been the inspiration for the Arrow tweet. He knew they would be wondering, they would be concerned, they would want to know he was alright, but he hadn't contacted them, he hadn't done anything.

Just a note. Because he knew she was looking for him. He knew she would always look for him.

The tears were unexpected. She didn't want to cry over him, she didn't want to cry for that fact that he had stood right there - Felicity laid on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, wondering where it was exactly he had been standing, trying to feel his presence, to feel _him_…

She cried. She cried for the lost time, for the fact that she was never going to have him back, that if there was any doubt left in her mind about the path he had chosen, he just answered it for her.

The League had chosen him, and he had chosen the League.

Felicity eventually picked up the note, flattening it out. She wanted to trace the letters, but she didn't. She wanted to show John that he was alright, that he had been there, but she didn't. Instead Felicity, blinking away tears, opened a drawer and dropped the note in.

She never opened it again.

Since then, there were four times she knew he was in Starling City.

When reports started popping up, it got easier with time for her heart not to jump into her throat at the possibility that it was him, easier to tell herself it didn't matter because he was gone, and he was staying gone.

So it wasn't because of her searching for him that she knew he was there, but because he searched for her. She moved a total of three times, and he always found her.

One time he left her window cracked.

Another time she caught a glimpse of a hood down the street.

A red pen went missing from her apartment, of all the stupid things he could pick, like she needed a reminder.

Once she woke up on the couch with her comforter tucked around her.

She never mentioned it, she didn't need to; it became a link, something to hold on to, something to wish for, something that sustained her as she went on. She went through the motions, only able to commit half her heart to anything - to anybody - because the other half had been permanently given away, ever since Oliver had whispered, _"I love you, Felicity, I will always love you."_

So when she woke up at 1:37 a.m., seven years after his final words to her, she knew he was there, knew he had _been_ there.

Felicity didn't move when he opened her window silently, the only indication the change in the shadows on her wall as he slipped through the moonlight before melting back into the darkness that was now his home.

He did nothing for the longest time except watch her, and she felt his eyes on her as if it were his touch dragging over her skin.

She blinked at the wall, her heart calm and tranquil, like she was still sleeping. Her breathing was even, her mind awake and clear. She had let herself wonder what it would be like if she did see him again, if she caught him, if he slipped up… she thought she might use her loud voice, throw something at him because a _red pen_? Seriously?

But she did none of those things. She laid there, waiting.

Time was suspended, moving in the blink of an eye while moving slow as molasses at the same time.

Until he moved.

And then everything felt sharp and painful, and the closer he got to her, the tighter her chest started to feel. She closed her eyes when tears blurred her vision - no, she wanted to open her eyes, she wanted to see him. But she couldn't.

He didn't make a sound, but she knew he was standing by the bed. She didn't have to have her eyes open to know he was reaching out to touch her, and she didn't have to open her eyes to see where his hand was before she reached out, gripping it tightly.

He let out a startled sound and she looked up at him.

For a man cast in shadows, she saw him remarkably well. He was dressed in his League clothes, his face shrouded save for his eyes.

Al-Sahim stood before her, cold, hard; emotionless.

But the trembling in his hand, his fingers twisting in hers to grip just as tightly… that was Oliver Queen. Her Oliver, the love of her life…

Neither said anything.

Felicity gently tugged on his hand, scooting over, urging him to join her. He didn't even try to resist. His weapons were already off, his quiver and bow gone as he climbed into the bed, laying down next to her. He didn't take off his mask, or his clothes, or anything, save for the bare hand in hers.

Their fingers interlaced, holding on to each other like a lifeline. He held on so tightly she felt her bones grinding together; her nails dug into the back of his hand, trembling with the effort. She took a stuttering breath, echoed by his own harsh breathing as they laid next to each other, holding onto the only thing they could…

Felicity closed her eyes, several tears escaping, running into her hairline as she let herself imagine that the only thing in bed with her was Oliver Queen, and nothing more.

And then he let go.

The sob was out before she could stop it. She held her breath to keep the rest in, her empty hand dropping onto the cold sheets between them. She left it there, pressing her other shaking hand to her face as more tears slipped down her face, soaking into her pillow.

She didn't dare open her eyes, to see if he was gone, to see if he was still there.

And then his fingers brushed her cheek and she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut tighter. She froze as his wiped way her tears, before he cupped her face. His touch was soft, gentle, a remembrance of the night they had shared. His fingers trailed down her cheek as he moved, down over her jaw, following the dip and curve of her neck as he moved to her shoulder, his fingers leaving a white hot trail in their path. She stayed still, eyes closed, barely breathing, as he moved down her arm with his warm rough palm.

Where she was fighting to keep herself from letting any air into her lungs, for fear that it might fast-forward time, he was breathing fast and heavy, like he was trying to keep himself in check.

He paused when he reached her wrist, before going back up her arm, his hand slipping to her waist where he let it slip down to her hip under the sheet… before it slid back up to her shoulder.

Felicity's hand shot out to stop his movement. He froze next to her as she pressed it back against her waist, sliding it back down until she reached the hem of her shirt. She pressed his hand up underneath it, sliding it up against her bare skin, over her ribs and up to her breast.

He didn't do anything for a long second, his breaths coming out in short bursts.

She wondered when her heart had started back to life, if he could feel it hammering against her chest plate, vibrating through her skin.

With a sudden gasp, he clutched her breast tightly, and she arched into his touch, shivering when twisted the sensitive flesh, like he was too eager to touch her, to feel her against him.

She knew the feeling.

Her eyes closed, tears drying on her cheeks, she kept her hand over his on her breast, encouraging more. He gave her that, just that… and she realized after a long moment that that was all he was going to do: whatever she wanted, what she needed.

The fine tremble in his every touch bespoke to the fact that Oliver Queen was in there still, buried so deep inside Al-Sahim, but he didn't know how to _be_ Oliver Queen anymore.

Felicity opened her eyes, looking at him, and saw his shuttered blue orbs staring at her blankly, watching her, a stark contrast to his heated touch.

Al-Sahim stared at her, while Oliver Queen touched her.

He always came to her, whenever he was in the city, he always came to her, but he didn't know why anymore.

With a choked sob, Felicity bit her lip, gripping his hand tightly to stop his ministrations. Their eyes stayed locked as she took a slow, shaky breath before she sat up, forcing his hand to fall back.

With slow, measured movements, Felicity gently pressed on his shoulder until he rolled onto his back. She got up on her knees, letting her hands rove across the heavy material of his League wear. She didn't try to remove any of it, she didn't try to take his mask off or force him to remove any more armor than he already had.

This wasn't about changing Al-Sahim, it was about reminding him that he was still Oliver Queen, that he was still a man, a man she loved, and that she would love him no matter what.

He didn't stop her as Felicity found the belt and button of his pants. He laid prone beneath her as she undid them, spreading the material and pushing it down his hips. She reached in, grasping his already hard cock, looking up to see his eyes flutter shut, his hips arching into her touch as she gently pulled him free.

His entire body trembled beneath her as she gently stroked him, her thumb running over the head where precum was already seeping free. He hissed, his hands gripping her sheets into tight fists.

Felicity sat up, pulling her shirt off. Her hair was longer than the last time he'd been in Starling City, and it cascaded down her chest and back, tickling her bare skin as she wiggled out of her pajama shorts and panties, leaving her naked before him.

He may be still be completely veiled in darkness, but she knew he was more naked than he'd been in a very long time.

Felicity straddled him, their eyes locked on each other. She reached between them, gripping him tightly, pressing him against her wet entrance. He barely moved, short hard breaths coming out as he forced himself to lay still…

Felicity slowly eased down on him, her mouth falling open in a silent moan as he filled her more completely than anything in her life.

A breathy whine escaped him, and Felicity panted as he watched her. The shuttered look was gone, replaced with raw emotion: pain, love, grief, anger… he stared up at her, showing her everything, giving her everything as she reminded him of who he was, that he could always come back to her to find his home. She didn't see the mask he wore, the black archer clothes, the hood still up… she only saw his eyes.

She only saw Oliver.

Felicity reached down, grabbing his hands. She pressed them to her thighs as her hips started a slow, easy rhythm, small thrusts that started rocking the bed as she held his hands to her body. His fingers were trembling again. She held them to her waist, their eyes never breaking contact as she made love to him.

Felicity's breathing grew heavier, the slow burning spiral of pleasure starting to blossom in the pit of her stomach; her hips moved faster, and she nodded to him, encouraging him to hold her, to keep her close.

Felicity saw the break in him before his fingers suddenly dug into her waist.

With a grating moan, Felicity fell onto him, pressing her forehead against his, gripping the pillow he laid on. Her hair created a dark curtain around them, but she knew his eyes were open, watching her in the darkness, just as hers watched him as they thrust against each other, their hips moving faster, chasing their release.

With a choked growl, Oliver reached up and yanked his mask off. Felicity gasped, her hips stuttering, but Oliver wrapped a tight arm around her waist, keeping her pressed against him as he cupped the back of her neck, their lips crashing together.

It happened in a blur after that, as Oliver planted his booted feet, using his grip on her waist to thrust wildly into her as their tongues mimicked what their lower halves were doing.

Her pleasure grew in a tight ball in her center as they thrust against each other, as Felicity matched his kiss with equal ardor, teeth nipping at each other's lips and tongue, her hands coming up to cradle his face in a tight grip, her release climbing without warning. Her nails dug into his temples, their moans lost in each other. His hold on her grew tighter, their hips moving faster, the bed rocking underneath them…

Felicity came with a broken shout. Oliver gasped underneath her, thrusting up without any rhythm as her walls pulsed around him. His hold on her waist was painful, making her ribs groan with discomfort as he held on tighter and tighter… until with one last thrust Oliver spilled into her, the sound he made something between pleasure and grief, a sound that tore into Felicity's soul.

* * *

Felicity woke the next morning, her body sore and bruised. She didn't open her eyes for a long moment, letting herself just… be. She didn't want to feel the pain of knowing he was gone, the loss all over again, knowing that the love they had given each other last night was over again…

She eventually did open her eyes though, and there was a note on her pillow.

It was the crumpled note, the first note he'd left her… it was flipped and on the other side, in the same scrawl with the same black pen, was a message:

'_Never stop.'_

Felicity blinked at the words, and she slowly traced the letters as tears rose unbidden.

But not tears of grief this time.

They were something else.

Because she knew what he meant.

'_Please never stop loving me.'_

The End

* * *

Kind of having an off day, so I'm posting this before I change my mind! :)

Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	10. Drabble: A Challenge

**A Challenge**

By Bre (dust2dust34)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Arrow.  
Rating: Explicit  
Author's Notes: Part of my Heartbeats Olicity smutlet collection.

Summary: Smut Drabble Prompt: ladymalfoi – "Is that a challenge Mr. Queen?"

* * *

**"Is that a challenge, Mr. Queen?"**

"I do believe it is, Ms. Smoak." Oliver gave her a level look. "The entire day."

Felicity snorted. "Please. Easy schmeasy."

Oliver smirked at her boldness, pinching his lips to hide it from her. "Alright. Good. Tomorrow then."

"Tomorrow it is." She turned back to her tablet, and Oliver turned back to the TV. He flipped through a few channels, not seeing the shows, his attention on his periphery. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head. "Should we make it interesting?"

Oliver raised an eyebrow, looking at her as he hit the mute button. "I'm listening."

"If I win - which I will, so be prepared - you have to do everything I ask you to, for an entire night." The smile he gave her was slow and predatory and she returned it. "Including cleaning." His eyebrows hit his hairline, not expecting that. "And fixing the air conditioner. And alphabetizing the spices." He chuckled and she leaned over, tapping his lips, her voice growing husky as she said, "And showing me you know how to spell supercalifragilisticexpialidocious with your tongue."

Oliver inhaled sharply, narrowing his eyes and she just smiled at him.

"Okay. And if I win?"

She sighed, patting his chest. "You won't." He laughed. "But let's make it dealer's choice."

He stared at her for a long moment. She met his gaze boldly, far too self-assured, which was only going to make tomorrow so much more fun. He knew what he wanted, but he didn't say anything, watching her watch him before she made a slight face. And then she bit her plump bottom lip, before sucking it into her mouth as she fidgeted under his gaze. The sight sent a burst of arousal through him.

"Be nice," she warned.

Oliver only smiled before turning to face her where they laid in bed, his hand sliding across the comforter. He slid his finger under her camisole strap, slipping it down her shoulder. Goosebumps rose under his touch, and he watched with fascination as a light flush spread across her chest. They both stared at his hand as he slid her tank top down, exposing her breasts.

And then she swallowed and Oliver's cock hardened as he followed the delicate line of her throat up to her rosy cheeks.

"I get to do anything I want to you, Felicity," he said, his voice low, a soft growl from deep in his chest.

Felicity blinked, licking her lips, her eyes meeting his. "Anything?"

Oliver's eyes drilled into hers, his fingers dragging over her breast. They slipped over an already peaked nipple, and she gasped, arching into him, her eyes never leaving his.

"Anything."

He watched her pupils dilate at the promise in his voice, and her breath grew shallow as her mind worked overtime to capture everything that single word entailed.

"It's a deal then, Mr. Queen."

Oliver probably should have mentioned that he had planned this the second he found the butterfly vibrator in her nightstand.

He knew about her toy collection, and they had played with some of them a few times, but it didn't hold the appeal it had with other women.

He usually got far too distracted by Felicity herself to properly use any of the damn toys.

Until he spotted the butterfly.

The wireless remote butterfly.

She came after a mere minute the first time he turned it on.

They were alone, and they were going to be alone _all day_, something she had not known until they'd walked into QC and she noticed Diggle wasn't going upstairs with them. He said he had a few errands that were going to keep him busy, and all of Oliver's meetings had been bumped to later in the week.

The entire day was free and clear and only for them.

She had not been pleased.

"This is cheating, Oliver," she whispered, straightening out a pile of papers with more force than necessary at her desk.

Oliver smiled at her - the fact that she was whispering at all was adorable, considering it was just them. He fingered the remote in his pocket where he stood in the doorway of his office. "You didn't say there were rules, Felicity."

"I think it's a pretty obvious rule," she replied, her cheeks flushed from the first orgasm. "I didn't think you would-"

Oliver switched the vibrator on to its first setting, and Felicity's words ended in a choke as the little butterfly came to life against her. He'd personally checked the placement when they'd gotten into the office, something for which she'd smacked the back of his head for, so he knew it was strapped on just as they had planned.

As he had challenged her to.

"_Wear it all day."_

"_All day?"_

"_All. Day."_

She'd known his schedule, knew he had back-to-back meetings for most of the day, and that John was usually there… she had obviously thought it was going to be easy, that Oliver wouldn't toy with her like that in front of people, especially since the vibrator made quite the racket when it was at its highest setting.

The little butterfly was pressed against her nether lips, the head directly on her clit, the antennas artfully positioned so each side of her sensitive nubbin got stimulation. The wings were spread out in perfect position, enough to send vibrations across the lips, while the rest of the body was teasingly pushed against her tight hole.

He'd made sure of that, tightening the straps of the vibrator where they were wrapped around each thigh and one connecting strap around her waist to keep everything in place.

Oliver switched the remote up a level, increasing the vibrations and Felicity's mouth gaped open, her half-lidded eyes glazing over.

His mouth went dry as her hips arched towards the vibrator, her fingers turning white where she gripped her desk. She already had a light sheen from the quick orgasm he'd brought her to just a few minutes ago, and he watched with fascination, the sun highlighting her from behind, making her glow from the flush slipping across her skin.

God, she was beautiful.

He was already growing hard, just watching her, despite having her twice that morning, his body tensing with each passing second.

Just thinking about the words he'd whispered in bed were shoving heady doses of need through his veins when she'd said, "Again?"

"_You think it's going to be easy for me to just sit there, doing nothing but making you come over and over again?" His half-hard cock slid against her and she gasped. "Not able to do anything but watch?"_

This wasn't just a challenge for her.

Felicity moaned, the sound coming out in strangled pants, her hips rotating in her chair as she squeezed her thighs together, pressing the vibrator against herself hard. Oliver's finger nearly slipped on the damn remote when she fell back in her chair, her hips arching up, one hand landing on her thigh where she dug her nails in.

He shut it off.

Felicity let out a low, pained keen as she slumped in her chair.

She opened her eyes, glaring at him, her chest heaving.

He just smiled and headed back into his office.

He watched her as he sat down.

Her lips moved as she randomly adjusted things on her desk with shaky, uneven movements. A long moment passed where she finally started to calm down, and Oliver watched her the entire time, readjusting his hard cock in his pants, biting back the hiss when he cupped himself. He may have little self-control when it came to the gorgeous woman sitting out there, but he had _some_ at least - he could wait, he _would_ wait, no matter how long he had to watch her luscious hips rotate against the little vibrator, or her hands slowly tighten on her chair arms as she moaned his name…

Oliver groaned, shaking his head.

Damn it, at this rate, he wasn't going to last.

Felicity gave no indication that she was aware of his eyes glued to the back of her head, as she turned back to her work, looking like she was cooling off.

Oliver pulled the remote out, and ratcheted the vibrator up to its third setting.

Felicity froze, her body stiffening, her shoulders trembling. Her hips started rotating almost immediately, and she gripped the desk with one hand, the other keeping her chair still as she rode the vibrator.

Oliver hit the fourth level after a moment, and watched her come with a sharp shout, her back bowing as the orgasm rocketed through her. He felt his own flush coming on, his cock hardening to the point of pain as she ground against the chair, her head falling forward, sobs of pleasure echoing into his office.

With a quick flip, he slipped the vibrator up to the fifth level, flicking it between the two levels, making her come again before he slowly eased off, finally silencing it.

Felicity fell forward onto her desk, her forehead resting against the cool glass. He waited, his eyes on her, his breathing heavy and controlled.

She finally sat up, and he grinned when she made a point to not look in at him, turning back to her computer.

The third time was an hour later.

The fourth time was over lunch, when she purposefully scheduled a telephone conference.

She was in there with him, taking notes dutifully as he answered the questions appropriately, responding when necessary, listening to the Hong Kong office as they talked about a midnight emergency for something or other… alright, he wasn't really paying attention.

One of the men on the other side asked if he had seen the report they just emailed over, and Felicity nodded, having already printed it. She went to her desk, retrieving the paper, and the second she entered his office again, he turned the vibrator on high.

Felicity faltered, choking back a moan, her eyes slipping shut.

She came quick and hard, just like he wanted - his response to her scheduling the damn call in the first place - and she nearly fell from the force of her release, biting her lip to keep from crying out her pleasure as her entire body quaked.

Oliver had to give her points because she remained standing in those sexy stilettos, albeit extremely shakily, finally making her way to his desk, handing him the paper - the very crumpled paper she had clenched into a tight fist - as he said, "Yes, I've got the report right here."

He kept the vibrator on a low setting for a while after that, teasing and tormenting her, and Oliver watched her sit at her desk, staring blankly at her computer, all her energy concentrated on the butterfly between her quivering thighs.

He could tell she was wavering with the fifth one, which he slowly - _slowly_ \- built towards, one that cascaded through her body like a gentle wave, judging by the way every inch of her reacted to it, and that she was getting unsteady with the sixth.

It was almost the end of the day when he gave her her seventh, sitting on one of the sofas in his office, and she came with a sharp groan that was bordering on painful when Oliver finally set the remote down.

He stared at her where she was sprawled across the cushions, her breathing labored, her body twitching with small aftershocks.

"I…" she started, her voice raspy and dry. "I win."

Oliver gave her prone body a smile. "Not yet. Come here."

Felicity barely had enough energy to lift her head as she looked at him. "What?"

He just cocked his finger at her in a 'get over here' motion.

With a breathy whine, Felicity stood, looking like a fawn learning how to walk again. Oliver gripped her waist, pulling her between his legs, forcing her thighs together, making her gasp, a sharp tremor jerking through her.

"You," Oliver said, his hands slipping down to the hem of her dress. He slid them up, pushing the material up as Felicity looked down at him through hooded eyes. "Are so fucking gorgeous when you come, Felicity."

Arousal darkened her eyes and her lips trembled as Oliver hooked his finger into her thong, pushing it down. It was _soaked_, and her juices smeared against her leg all the way down her inner legs where she dutifully stepped out of them.

He smiled up at her, letting his eyes drift down to her bare sex, a small patch of hair and the little purple butterfly still strapped in place her only ornaments. The flash of purple, the red, aroused tender skin, and the straps hooked around her - it was sexy as hell.

Oliver hooked her dress in the strap around her waist before he quickly undid his pants, letting his aching cock spring free. Felicity bit her lip, her eyes on him as his hard cock swayed between them, the head dark with need, the thick vein running up the side practically throbbing.

"Hard day?" she asked with a little chuckle and he narrowed his eyes, unable to stop the smile at her words, before he pulled her towards him. She lifted her legs, straddling him in his office chair, the vibrator still in place.

"You might say that," Oliver hissed as his cock slid against her soaking entrance. She was dripping, she was so wet, and Oliver slid his hands up her legs, his thumbs dipping down to slide across her inner thighs. His breath hitched when he felt the evidence of her multiple orgasms smeared everywhere.

He barely touched the vibrator and Felicity shuddered, her head falling back, pressing her chest against his face.

"You are so wet," Oliver whispered raggedly, his eyes on her sex and his cock slipping against her. The vibrator glistened, pressed between her puffy lips, her little clit hard and red against the butterfly head. "So beautiful."

"Oliver," Felicity whispered, her voice cracking, the exertions from the day stripping her of any ounce of self-consciousness that she usually showed when he took his time exploring every inch of her.

He gripped her hips and he lifted her, her thigh muscles clenching and his cock slid home, slipping into her with ease.

"Oh… god," Oliver groaned, the sensations of her slick walls rhythmically squeezing him pushing him further along than he wanted.

Felicity dug her nails into his shoulders, using him to help her lift her hips and thrust back down against him and Oliver gave her another guttural moan, already feeling his own release coming on way too fast as he watched himself slip out of her and then slide right back in, his cock spreading her already abused lips, pressing the butterfly up against her clit.

The sight of him spreading her like that, filling her completely, wearing a vibrator he had used on her all day… it was one of the most erotic things he'd ever seen.

She dropped particularly hard on him, and he slid in deeper, his pubic bone shoving the vibrator up against her clit, and she let out a needy moan.

Oliver blindly fumbled for the remote he'd left on his desk. When he found it, he gritted his teeth, flipping the switch to whatever random setting it landed on.

The vibrator roared to life, and Felicity yelped his name the same time he growled hers as the vibrations translated through her tender flesh and right into his. Oliver nearly dropped it as he grabbed her hips, lifting her up and down rapidly, the vibrations sending them both into overdrive.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," Felicity babbled, unable to do anything but hold on as Oliver thrust her up and down on him. The chair squeaked under their ministrations, scraping against his desk as he pushed them higher. Felicity buried her head in his neck, and he pressed his face into her shoulder, his hands slamming her down harder and harder until Felicity came with a hoarse shout of his name in his ear.

The sound of her heavy panting, his name a litany on her lips, had the base of Oliver's spine tingling. He had enough state of mind for his thumb to find the remote and he shoved it up to its highest setting.

The loud buzzing sound of the vibrator echoed the wet sounds of her sex and the squeak of the chair as he grunted, "One more."

A plaintive cry was his response.

She lasted all of fifteen seconds.

"Oliver, I can't, I can't, please," she whimpered, the words tripping over her tongue.

Oliver shut the vibrator off instantly.

He dropped the remote and gripped her hard, shoving her down against him in three short thrusts that had him roaring his release as he came into her. He arched up into her, her sex milking him, shoving them away from his desk. The chair rolled back into the wall, the dull hit making them both groan.

Her walls rippled around him, and he groaned pitifully, matching the uneven keels Felicity was making.

They clung to each other, slowly coming down.

She was pure liquid in his arms. Oliver slowly slid them around her, hugging her close and she groaned.

"You okay?" he whispered, turning his face to press a kiss to the side of her neck.

Her only response was a discombobulated hum.

He grinned, pressing her closer so he could push his stubble against her sensitive skin.

"You know," he said. "I think I won."

"What?" she asked groggily, trying to lift her head as awareness set in.

He cupped the back of her neck, pulling her down so his lips were pressed to her ear. He kissed the shell softly and whispered, "I won, Felicity. You didn't last all day."

She huffed, trying to sit up before the little bit of strength she had managed to gather disappeared and she slumped against him.

"Damn."

He smiled, his hands sliding down her back and to her firm, beautiful ass. He felt himself hardening inside her at the thought of what he had in mind.

Oliver gripped her cheeks, pushing her against him, making her moan, and then he spread them wide, his finger slipping against her tiny puckered hole. She made a small sensual sound, and Oliver bit his tongue when she rotated her hips against him.

He massaged her lightly, testing the waters, and she moaned, a shudder making her body shake as he waited for her reaction.

Her answer was to lift her head with a lazy, sexy smile, her makeup smudged, hair wild, before giving him a wet, eager kiss.

The End

* * *

Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	11. Drabble: Salmon Ladder

Salmon Ladder

By Bre (dust2dust34)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Arrow.  
Rating: Explicit  
Author's Notes: Part of my Heartbeats Olicity smutlet collection.

Summary: **Smut Drabble Prompt: nikkibeckettcsm - **"You do know that a no sex pact doesn't only affect me, right? You wouldn't be having sex either." "Dammit I did not think this thing through"

* * *

"**You do know that a no sex pact doesn't only affect me, right? You wouldn't be having sex either."**

**"Dammit, I did not think this thing through."**

"No, you did not."

Oliver smiled. It wasn't his usual Felicity smile - well, he had multiple Felicity smiles. He had the one that made butterflies stampeded across her stomach floor, he had the one that made her forget how to speak, the one that made her feel like she was the only thing in the entire world, the one that told her everything he wanted to do to her with those lips of his…

No, this was a different smile.

This was an Ollie smile. This was a pre-island smile, the kind of smile that said he was feeling pretty cocky.

Felicity glared at him. "This isn't a joke, Oliver. Nobody even comes down here anymore."

He chuckled, pulling his shirt off, and her mouth went dry. He was… glistening. How did a man glisten? It probably helped that it wasn't very cool in the foundry that night. A heatwave had more than attacked Starling City - it was in the current process of annihilating it. She herself was wearing as little as she could get away with without showing too much.

Because she cared. About her coworkers. Her Team Arrow coworkers. Most of whom only showed their face when the city was under literal attack anymore. If it was a quiet night, or if they wanted to check in, or if they had a question, they called. Or texted. Or banged on the walls until they were sure they had been heard before coming downstairs.

Just because they'd walked in a few times and seen… _things._

Well, she was done doing _things_in the foundry, and she was going to take this seriously, even if Oliver wasn't. People shouldn't be uncomfortable in their workplace. Wasn't that why sexual harassment laws were created? Did this count as sexual harassment? Was seeing two people engaging in _things_harassing others?

_Yes._

Yes, it was, which was why it was time to stop the _things_.

That didn't mean she couldn't… ogle. She could ogle. She was certainly allowed to ogle her boyfriend. Oliver stretched his arms over his head, his muscle contracting and moving and gliding under his skin in a very sensual manner.

He moved into a weird tai chi movement that had him turning so she saw his back muscles _rippling._

Okay, so this pact idea was really a horrible idea.

Felicity closed her eyes, whispering to herself, "No. I care. I care about other people. I am not a crazy nympho, I have control, I can control myself. See, this is me being in control." She turned, heading back to her computers.

She heard him chuckle again behind her, and she grabbed her phone, purposely texting Roy that it was safe to be in the foundry again.

See, safety net. Precaution.

Because she cared.

Felicity sat down, pulling up some new algorithms on her computer when she heard the sharp clang of metal on metal. She stiffened, biting her tongue to stop herself from looking back.

And then he started going up the salmon ladder.

The air literally left her lungs as she listened to metal on metal.

Her searches forgotten, she closed her eyes, perfectly imagining him as he went up and down the stupid, stupid thing. Her heart picked up at the thought, her skin feeling even more heated than it already was in the heat, a flush creeping along her skin, making her shiver.

He did a few sets, and she held onto her desk so hard her fingers were turning white as she remembered last night, when he'd picked her up, pressing her against the wall where he'd literally ravaged her. Just over there. Against her will, Felicity's eyes flickered to the spot and a rush of arousal swept through her center. Her fingers twitched as she remembered how strong he'd been, holding her like she was nothing, the play of his muscles under her palms when he'd pinned her to the wall with his hips, his hands reaching down to hook under her thighs…

The man was muscle incarnate and he was hers and why was she over here and not over there again?

Right. She cared.

_She cared._

Felicity heard his boots when he landed and she took a shaky breath. Good, maybe it was too hot to keep going. Usually he did the thing for an hour, sometimes more, and she wasn't sure she would have lasted an hour.

And then she heard the clang of metal and he was back on it.

"Damn it, Oliver," she whispered.

Like she had zero control over her body, Felicity risked a quick glance over her shoulder, and froze at the sight. Oliver was nearly to the top, his face twisted in concentration, his muscles bunched and the _glistening_… Felicity swallowed, slowly turning in her chair to watch, desperately trying to ignore the dull throb between her thighs, the tingle in her hardening nipples, the prospect of touching him, tasting him dancing along her nerves as he reached the top before dropping down.

There was something entirely too erotic about that damn salmon ladder. The way he had to hold himself, throw himself, catch himself, using every single muscle, making everything… move.

When he completed another set, Oliver hauled himself up, crossing his legs for balance, his muscles straining with the effort, and then he looked right at her.

The look was a promise.

A point to be made, that he didn't give two shits about what they did down here, or who saw them, or why nobody came down here.

It was a reminder.

It told her everything he wanted to do to her, that he always wanted to, the things he wanted her to do to him, that he knew what he was doing on that salmon ladder, he knew exactly what he was doing when he had chosen it. They'd only been seeing each other for a few months, but he knew long before that what it did to her. How much she liked watching him. How much he enjoyed her watching him.

Felicity was up and moving before she knew what she was doing. She didn't hear his breathy chuckle as he dropped to the ground, or the sound of her heels, or the hiss of the steam - she only heard the white noise rushing through her head as he smiled.

He opened his mouth to say something but Felicity grabbed his face and yanked him down, their lips crashing together. He moaned against her lips, wrapping his arms around her, pushing her until her back hit the ladder. She mewled, Oliver's hands already yanking her dress up, his hot hands touching her hot skin, making her center quake with need.

Oh, she wanted him. She needed him, but she needed something else more.

He rubbed his hard cock against her lower stomach, grinding against her in a way that made her gasp, and Felicity broke off the kiss, pushing him back. Oliver immediately let her, his lips swollen from her kisses, his eyes wild, his hair in disarray from her fingers, and she followed, pushing him until his back hit the other side of the salmon ladder.

Felicity grabbed his belt, undoing it quickly, the button and zipper following before she shoved his pants down his hips. His eyes widened slightly, his pupils blowing wide. They stared at her each other as her hand dipped into his briefs.

She cupped his hard cock, squeezing lightly, and Oliver groaned, his hips bucking against her hand, his head falling back with a thud. Felicity leaned in, her lips grazing his sweat-damp chest as she massaged him and he moaned her name.

His hands found her arms, and she felt them shaking slightly as he held her close. She dragged her lips over him, her tongue darting out to taste him, and his grip on her tightened.

His cock was so hard already, and her fingers wound around him as she took his nipple into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around it, and he let out a startled choked sound, one hand sliding up into her hair, pressing her closer as she squeezed his cock, moving her hand just enough to make him gasp.

Felicity smiled, dragging her teeth over him and he thrust into her hand, his fingers gripping her hair in a tight fist. She let him go, and he let out a small whimper from deep in his chest that made her heart skip a beat. She pushed his briefs down, freeing his cock, keeping her lips on his chest, and then his stomach, as she slowly sank to her knees.

His cock slid across her chest, silky smooth. A tiny bead of liquid already escaping left a wet trail across her skin. She kissed and licked her way down to him and she glanced up from under her lashes, her lips trembling with desire.

He was staring down at her with hooded lids, his lips parted in a staggered pant as he watched her. His hands cupped her face, pressing her hair behind her ears and she blinked, her body responding to the visceral look in his eyes as he stared at her kneeling before him.

Her thighs were already slick with her juices and she squeezed them together.

Keeping her eyes on his, Felicity's hand found his cock and slowly guided it to her mouth.

He whined softly, his eyes slipping shut for a split second when she wrapped her lips around his head before popping back open, unable to keep his eyes off her. She flicked her tongue against the tiny seam and his hands tightened in her hair, and she obliged, letting him sink his cock into her hot mouth.

"Oh god, Felicity," he whispered, his hips thrusting shallowly and she pushed his hips back against the ladder, forcing him to stay still, and he obliged. She moved slowly, achingly slow, taking her time as she wet his entire length. he trembled underneath her when she took him as deep as she could, the head touching the back of her throat before easing off, her tongue running up along the thick vein growing along the side.

And then she sucked him hard.

"Fuck," Oliver moaned, his fingers winding through her hair, holding her tight. She wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock, squeezing as she started a slow bobbing motion, sucking on him in a slow torturous manner that had him letting out harsh, short pants. She was soft, gentle, easy, and she felt his frustration growing, as he forced himself to stay still, to let her do what she wanted. With her fee hand, she cupped his balls, squeezing them softly before she massaged them in time with her mouth and his body jerked.

Felicity started sucking harder. His moans grew louder as she took him in deeper with each small thrust. She could feel him tightening underneath her, his body tensing in anticipation, his fingers growing more urgent in her hair. He whispered her name, over and over, and she looked up at him just as he looked down at her, and the connection was explosive, sending a wave of arousal through her at the heat in his eyes.

"Harder," he whispered, his eyes never leaving hers and she sucked harder, dragging her teeth across her length and he hissed, his body shaking. She tightened her fingers around the base of his cock, twisting, and his legs nearly gave out from underneath him, his head flying back, hitting the ladder hard.

"I'm so close, Felicity, just… _fuck_…"

Felicity hummed around him, her tongue swirling over the head of his cock, caressing the tender seam where salty-sweet precum seeped.

His hands suddenly fisted painfully in her hair, and she relaxed her throat, letting him slide as deep as he could and she swallowed.

"Oh god," he choked out, and she swallowed again when he thrust back in, her throat massaging his head just as she tightened her hand over his balls. She ignored her body's natural reaction, letting him thrust into her as she sucked on his cock.

"Feli… Felici…" he whimpered. "Felicity… I can't… oh fuck, I'm coming… I'm coming!"

Felicity sped up, squeezing him harder, massaging him harder, letting him thrust shallowly into her mouth and then she felt him stiffen, his balls tightening…

"Aahhh," Oliver cried out as he came, spilling into her mouth. Felicity relaxed her throat, swallowing all of him, and he gripped her close, riding out his orgasm in her mouth. His back arched with a final shudder before he collapsed.

Felicity pulled back, smacking her lips, swallowing the remnants as Oliver slouched against the ladder. She kissed his hip bone, smiling, before using him to pull herself up.

His hands were limp and shaky in her hair.

Oliver opened his eyes just as she was licking his lips, and the darkness in her eyes only reminded her how much she had gotten off on that. She bit her lip as he caught his breath, and his hand moved to cup her cheek, his thumb running over her lips.

The air was electric, the same as it always was between them - she'd thought it might have just been the built-up tension and anticipation the first time, but no, it was every time. Every single time he looked at her, every time he touched her, every time he entered her, made her come, made her scream his name.

Felicity whimpered at the thought, her eyes dropping to his lips for a microsecond.

Their eyes met, and then Oliver pulled her into him, his mouth crashing against hers. He groaned, tasting himself, and yanked her closer, his hands gripping her waist, his semi-erect cock rubbing between them.

And then he pushed her until her back was against the ladder again. He yanked his briefs and pants back into place before he dropped to his knees, tossing her thighs onto his shoulders, and he proceeded to eat her out through her panties.

And that was how Roy found them when he walked in a moment later.

He let out a startled shout, covering his eyes as he turned blindly, running away, yelling, "Last time, blondie, _last time_!"

The End

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From my "One Line of Dialogue" prompt request on Tumblr (I'm dust2dust34)

Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


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